BIOGE 


AN  AMEPJCAN  BONDBi 


HIS  DAUGHTER 


“They  who  sell  mothers  by  the  poimd,  and  childi*en  in  lots  to  suit  purchasers — 
what  are  they  ? I care  not  what  terms  are  applied  to  them,  provided  they  no  apply. 
If  they  are  not  thieves,  if  they  are  not  t3*rants,  if  they  are  not  men-stealers,  I should 
like  to  know  "what  is  their  true  character,  and  bywhatnaines  they  maybe  called. ’’ 

Lloyd  Garrison.  . 

Let  us  not  require  too  much  of  slavery.  I-et  xis  not  insist  that  the  slaves,  shall 
neverbeseparated,nor  their  fainilies  broken  up.”  JIehemiah  Adams,  D.D. 


BOSTON: 

P'L'BLISHED  BY  R.  F.  WALLCUT, 

21  COKXIIILL.  ' 

. 1 8 5 6.’ 


v\ 


\ 


BIOGEAPHY 


AN  AMEEICAN  BONDMAN, 


HIS  DAUGHTER. 


“They  who  sell  mothers  by  the  pound,  and  children  in  lots  to  suit^purchasers— 
what  are  they  ? I care  not  what  terms  arc  applied  to  them,  provided  they  do  apply. 
If  they  are  not  thieves,  if  they  are  not  tyrants,  if  they  are  not  mcn-stealers,  I should 
like  to  know  \vhat  is  their  true  character,  and  by  what  names  they  may  be  called.” 

William  Lloyd  Garrison. 

“ Let  us  not  require  too  much  of  slavery.  Let  us  not  insist  that  the  slaves  shall 
never  be  separated,  nor  their  families  broken  up.”  ISehemiah  Adams,  D.I). 


BOSTON: 

PUBLISHED  BY  B.  F.  W ALLCUT, 

21  COENHILL. 

1 856. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  eighteen  hundred  and  fifty-five, 
By  JOSEPHINE  BROWN, 

In  the  Clerk’s  office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


boston: 

J.  B.  YERRINTON  AND  SON, 


PRINTERS. 


3 ^ 9 ^ . 


■?/> 


4 , 

■=h-  • 


PREFACE 


While  at  school  in  France,  I was  often  beset  bj  my 
fellow  students  to  know  the  history  of  my  father, 
whom  they  heard  was  a fugitive  from  American  des- 
potism. To  satisfy  their  curiosity,  I wrote  out  the 
first  ten  chapters  of  the  following  pages,  as  I had 
heard  the  incidents  related.  On  returning  to  America 
last  August,  and  finding  that  the  narrative  of  my 
father’s  life,  written  by  him,  and  published  some  years 
ago,  w'as  out  of  print,  I determined  to  supply  its  place; 
and  therefore  have  added  a few  more  chapters  to  those 
written  while  abroad. 


JOSEPHINE  BEOWN. 


Boston,  Mass. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2016 


https://archive.org/details/biographyofameri1856brow 


BIOGRAPHY 


OF 

AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


CHAPTER  I. 

“ Rouse  ye,  and  break  tbe  massive  chain, 

The  fetter’d  slave  that  binds; 

And  check  the  sorrow  and  the  pain 
The  wretched  negro  finds.” 

Five  different  biographies  of  the  subject  of  the 
following  pages  have  been  published,  during  the  last 
seven  years,  — two  in  the  United  States  and  three  in 
Great  Britain.  Of  these,  one  was  translated  into 
German,  and  appeared  in  Dresden,  and  another  was 
published  in  the  French  language  in  Paris.  The 
writer  of  this,  however,  fancies  that  the  relation  which 
she  holds  to  the  author  of  “ Sketches  of  Places  and 
People  Abroad,”  gives  her  an  advantage  over  those 
who  have  preceded  her. 

William  Wells  Brown  was  born  on  the  farm  of 
Dr.  John  Young,  near  Lexington,  Kentucky,  on  the 

!• 


6 


BIOGRAPHY  OR 


15th  of  March,  1815.  His  father’s  name  was  George 
Higgins,  half  brother  to  Hr.  Young.  The  Doctor 
removed  to  the  State  of  Missouri,  and  took  with  him 
William  and  his  mother,  the  former  being  then  an 
infant.  Dr.  Young  located  himself  in  the  interior  of 
the  State,  sixty  miles  above  St.  Louis,  in  a beautiful 
and  fertile  valley,  a mile  from  the  river.  A finer 
situation  for  a farm  could  scarcely  have  been  selected 
in  any  part  of  the  country.  With  a climate  favorable 
to  agriculture,  and  soil  rich,  the  most  splendid  crops  of 
tobacco,  hemp,  flax  and  grain  were  produced  on  the 
new  plantation.  On  this  farm,  Elizabeth  (William’s 
mother)  was  put  to  Avoik  at  field  service.  Distin- 
guished for  her  strength  both  of  body  and  mind,  and  a 
woman  of  great  courage,  Elizabeth  was  considered  one 
of  the  most  valuable  slaves  on  the  place.  Although 
Dr.  Young  was  not  thought  to  be  the  hardest  of 
masters,  he  nevertheless  employed,  as  an  overseer,  a 
man  whose  acts  of  atrocity  could  scarcely  have  been 
surpassed  in  any  of  the  slave  States.  Grove  Cook  Avas 
a large,  tall  man,  with  rough  features,  red  hair,  grey 
eyes,  and  large,  bushy  eyebrows,  which  gave  his  face 
the  appearance  of  a spaniel  dog.  Like  most  negro 
drivers.  Cook  was  addicted  to  drunkenness,  and  Avhen 
the  least  intoxicated,  Avould  use  the  Avhip  without 
mercy  upon  those  with  whom  he  came  in  contact. 
This  was  the  man  selected  by  Dr.  Young  to  look  after 
his  plantation,  and  superintend  its  affairs. 

William  was  separated  from  his  mother  at  an  early 
age,  and  Avas  but  seldom  alloAved  to  see  her.  The 
young  slave  Avas  taught  by  bitter  experience  the  Avant 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN, 


7 


of  a mother’s  care  and  softening  influence.  At  the 
age  of  eight  years,  he  Mas  taken  into  his  master’s  med- 
ical office,  and  was  employed  in  tending  upon  the 
Doctor.  As  William  grew  older,  he  became  more 
serviceable  in  his  new  situation.  When  only  about  ten 
years  old,  the  tender  feelings  of  the  young  slave  were 
much  hurt  at  hearing  the  cries  and  screams  of  his 
mother,  and  seeing  the  driver  flogging  her  with  his 
negro- whip.  As  he  heard  the  loud,  sharp  crack  of  the 
lash,  and  the  groans  of  her  who  was  near  and  dear  to 
him,  William  felt  a cold  chill  run  through  his  veins. 
He  wept  bitterly,  but  could  render  no  assistance. 
What  could  be  more  heart-rending  than  to  see  a dear 
and  beloved  one  abused  without  being  able  to  give  her 
the  slightest  aid?  Overseers  at  the  South  generally 
pride  themselves  upon  their  ability  to  break  the  stub- 
born.spirit  of  the  negro;  and  the  man  who  shall  suffer 
a slave,  male  or  female,  to  disobey  a rule,  without 
being  able  to  flog  him  or  her  for  such  disobedience, 
would  be  immediately  discharged  by  the  proprietor. 
Ability  to  manage  a negro  is  the  first  qualification  for 
a good  slave-driver.  The  Doctor  had,  among  his  fifty 
slaves,  a man  named  Randall,  of  stout  frame,  and  more 
than  six  feet  in  height,  and  known  as  the  most  powerful 
slave  on  the  farm.  If  there  was  heavy  work  to  be 
done,  Randall  was  always  selected  to  do  it;  and  his 
task  was  sure  to  be  finished  before  any  other  person’s. 
The  Doctor  had  flogged  every  slave  on  the  place  but 
Randall,  and  he  would  willingly  have  whipped  him, 
but  that  he  feared  the  undertaking,  for  Randall  had 
often  been  heard  to  say,  “Ho  white  man  shall  ever 


8 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


whip  me;  I will  die  first.”  Cook,  from  the  time  that 
he  came  upon  the  plantation,  had  frequently  declared 
that  he  could  and  would  flog  any  nigger  that  was  put 
into  the  field  to  work  under  him. 

Doctor  Young  having  been  elected  to  represent  his 
district  in  the  State  Legislature,  Cook  took  the  entire 
management  of  the  plantation.  The  Doctor  had  re- 
peatedly told  him  not  to  attempt  to  whip  Randall,  hut 
he  was  determined  to  try  it.  As  soon  as  he  was  sole 
dictator,  he  thought  the  time  had  come  to  put  his 
threats  into  execution.  He  soon  began  to  find  fault 
with  Randall,  and  threatened  to  Avhip  him  if  he  did  not 
do  better.  One  day  he  gave  him  a very  hard  task,  — 
more  than  he  could  possibly  do,  — and  at  night,  the 
task  not  being  performed,  he  told  Randall  that  he 
should  remember  him  the  next  morning. 

On  the  following  morning,  after  the  hands  had  taken 
breakfast.  Cook  called  out  Randall  and  told  him  that 
he  intended  to  whip  him,  and  ordered  him  to  cross  his 
hands  and  be  tied.  The  slave  asked  why  he  wished  to 
whip  him.  He  answered,  because  he  had  not  finished 
his  task  the  day  previous.  Randall  said  his  task  was 
too  great,  or  he  should  have  done  it.  Cook  said  it 
made  no  difference,  he  should  whip  him.  The  slave 
stood  silent  for  a moment,  and  then  said — “ Mr.  Cook, 
I have  always  tried  to  please  you  since  you  have  been 
on  the  plantation,  and  I find  that  you  are  determined 
not  to  be  pleased  or  satisfied  with  my  work,  let  me  do 
as  well  as  I may.  Ho  man  has  laid  hands  on  me  to 
whip  me  for  the  last  ten  years,  and  I have  long  since 
come  to  the  conclusion  not  to  be  whipped  by  any  man 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


9 


living.”  Cook,  finding  by  Randall’s  looks  and  ges- 
tures that  he  would  resist,  called  three  of  the  hands 
from  their  work,  and  commanded  them  to  seize  the 
insolent  slave  and  tie  him.  The  men  stood  still ; they 
knew  their  fellow-slave  to  be  a powerful  man,  and 
were  afraid  to  grapple  with  him.  As  soon  as  Cook 
had  ordered  them  to  seize  him,  Randall  turned  to  them 
and  said — “ Roys,  you  all  know  me;  you  know  I can 
handle  any  three  of  you ; and  the  man  that  lays  hands 
on  me  shall  die.  This  white  man  can ’t  whip  me  him- 
self, and  therefore  he  has  called  you  to  help  him.” 
The  overseer  was  unable  to  prevail  upon  them  to  aid 
him,  and  finally  ordered  them  to  go  to  their  work. 

Nothing  was  said  to  Randall  by  the  overseer  for 
more  than  a week.  One  morning,  however,  while  the 
hands  were'  at  work  in  the  field,  he  came  into  it, 
accompanied  by  three  friends  of  his,  — Thompson, 
"Woodbrldge,  and  Jones.  They  came  up  to  where 
Randall  was  at  work,  and  Cook  ordered  him  to  leave 
and  go  with  them  to  the  barn.  He  refused  to  go ; 
whereupon  he  was  attacked  by  the  overseer  and  his 
companions,  when  he  turned  upon  them,  and  laid  them 
one  after  another  prostrate  before  him.  Woodbridge 
drew  out  his  pistol  and  fired  at  him,  and  brought  him 
to  the  ground.  The  others  rushed  upon  him  with 
their  clubs,  and  heat  him  over  the  head  and  fiice  until 
they  succeeded  in  tying  him.  He  was  then  taken  to  a 
barn  and  tied  to  a beam.  Cook  gave  him  above  one 
hundred  lashes  with  a heavy  cowhide,  had  his  wounds 
washed  with  salt  and  water,  and  left  him  tied  during 
the  night.  The  next  day,  he  was  untied,  and  taken  to 


10 


BIOGRAPHY  OP 


a blacksmith’s  shop,  and  had  a ball  and  chain  attached 
to  his  leg.  He  was  compelled  to  labor  in  the  field,  and 
perform  the  same  amount  of  work  other  hands  did. 

When  the  Doctor  returned  home,  he  was  pleased  to 
find  that  Randall  had  been  subdued  in  his  absence, 
and  highly  praised  the  overseer  for  his  good  qualities 
as  a negro-breaker. 

The  negro  quarters  were  situated  some  distance  from 
the  master’s  mansion,  or  “ great  house,”  as  it  was 
called.  The  cabins  were  built  of  wood,  with  only  one 
room,  and  no  floor.  The  owner  seldom  provides  bed 
and  bedding  for  his  slave,  unless  merely  to  give  each 
one  a coarse  blanket ; and  those  who  are  so  fortunate 
as  to  get  more  than  this,  think  themselves  luxurious 
livers.  The  blowing  of  the  horn  and  the  ringing  of 
the  bell  were  the  signals  for  Dr.  Young’s  slaves  to 
start  in  the  morning  to  their  daily  toil,  Avhich  lasted 
from  twelve  to  fourteen  hours.  Being  employed  either 
as  house  servant,  or  in  his  master’s  medical  depart- 
ment, William  was  exempt  from  the  call  of  the  horn 
and  bell.  Nevertheless,  his  life  was  a hard  one.  Near- 
ly related  to  the  Doctor,  Mrs.  Young  was  always  pun- 
ishing the  young  slave  for  some  supposed  offence, 
which,  after  all,  was  only  because  she  felt  angry  and 
humiliated  at  the  idea  of  having  her  husband’s  “ negro 
relations  ” in  her  sight.  The  nearer  a slave  approaches 
an  Anglo-Saxon  in  complexion,  the  more  he  is  abused 
by  both  owner  and  fellow-slaves.  The  owner  flogs 
him  to  keep  him  “in  his  place,”  and  the  slaves  hate 
him  on  account  of  his  being  whiter  than  themselves. 
Thus  the  complexion  of  the  slave  becomes  a crime, 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


11 


and  he  is  made  to  curse  his  father  for  the  Anglo-Saxon 
blood  that  courses  through  his  veins. 

If  there  is  one  evil  connected  "with  the  abominable 
system  of  slavery  which  should  be  loathed  more  than 
another,  it  is  taking  from  woman  the  right  of  self- 
defence,  and  making  her  subject  to  the  control  of  any 
licentious  villain  who  may  be  able  to  purchase  her 
person.  But  amalgamation  is  only  one  of  the  impure 
branches  which  flow  from  this  poisonous  stream. 


12 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


CHAPTER  II. 

“Waft,  waft,  5'e  winds,  his  story, 
And  you,  ye  waters,  roll, 

Till,  like  a sea  of  glory. 

It  spreads  from  pole  to  pole.” 


On  Dr.  Young’s  leaving  home  the  second  time,  to 
attend  the  State  Legislature,  William  was  taken  from 
his  master’s  office  and  placed  under  Cook,  the  negro- 
driver,  to  work  in  the  field.  Not  more  than  twelve 
years  of  age,  and  of  a tender  constitution,  he  found  his 
new  situation  a most  unpleasant  and  difficult  one  to  fill. 
Seeing  William  neatly  dressed  and  doing  light  work 
about  the  office,  the  overseer  had  often  expressed  a wish 
to  have  the  “white  nigger”  under  his  charge.  “I 
will  tan  your  yellow  jacket  for  you,”  said  the  negro- 
driver,  as  William  took  his  hoe  and  followed  the  other  i 
slaves  to  the  field.  It  was  with  pain  that  Elizabeth 
saw  her  son  in  the  hands  of  this  drunken  man.  Wil- 
liam had  been  in  the  field  scarcely  a Aveek,  Avhen  Cook, 
for  a pretended  offence,  took  the  young  slave  to  the 
barn,  tied  him  up,  and  inflicted  a severe  whipping  upon 
him.  In  vain  the  mother  pleaded  for  her  child,  and 
reminded  the  overseer  that  the  boy  Avas  too  young  to 
perform  the  heavy  labors  given  to  him. 

In  punishing  the  slaves,  the  overseer  Avas  always 
inventing  new  modes  of  chastisement.  On  one  occa- 
sion, Cook,  in  a fit  of  anger,  because  William  did  not 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


13 


keep  up  with  the  older  hands  in  hoeing,  gave  the  boy 
a flogging,  and  then  took  him  into  a pasture,  where  the 
sheep  were  grazing,  and  made  him  get  down  on  his 
hands  and  knees  in  front  of  an  old  ram,  noted  for  his 
hutting  qualities.  As  soon  as  the  ram  saw  the  boy  in 
the  butting  attitude,  he  prepared  himself  for  a flght, 
and,  squaring  off,  he  gave  a bleat,  and  sprang  forward, 
hitting  William  in  the  forehead,  and  knocking  him 
upon  the  ground.  The  wound  inflicted  upon  the  poor 
boy  caused  the  blood  to  gush  from  his  nose.  The 
overseer,  and  a few  of  his  friends  who  were  present  to 
see  the  fun,  laughed  heartily,  and  the  boy  was  sent 
back  to  work. 

In  the  Doctor’s  absence.  Cook  ruled  the  slaves  with 
an  iron  hand,  using  the  negro-whip  on  all  occasions 
where  he  was  the  least  provoked.  On  the  return  of 
the  Doctor  from  the  Legislature,  William  was  again 
removed  from  the  fleld  to  his  master’s  oflice. 

Dr.  Young  was,  without  doubt,  one  of  the  most  reli- 
gious men  south  of  “Mason  and  Dixon’s  line.”  He 
had  family  worship  every  night  and  morning,  and  on 
Sabbath  morning,  he  spent  an  hour  in  reading  and 
explaining  Scripture  to  the  blacks.  If  he  punished  a 
slave,  he  did  it  religiously.  Quotations  from  the  Bible, 
and  a moral  lecture,  always  accompanied  the  whip. 
“ Servants,  obey  your  masters,”  was  continually  on 
the  Doctor’s  tongue.  “ He  that  knoweth  his  master’s 
will,  and  doeth  it  not,  shall  be  beaten  with  many 
stripes,”  was  a part  of  his  moral  lecture  to  his  slaves. 


14 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


1 


CHAPTER  III. 

“ TeU  the  man  -who  dares  to  barter 
In  his  brother’s  flesh  and  blood, 

He  has  broken  the  high  charter 
Of  our  common  brotherhood  ! ” 

Dr.  Young  removed  from  the  interior  of  Missouri, 
■when  William  was  thirteen  years  old,  to  St.  Louis, 
where  he  purchased  a farm  of  three  thousand  acres  of 
land,  within  four  miles  of  the  city.  Here  he  employed 
an  overseer  named  Haskell,  who  was  scarcely  less  cruel 
than  Cook.  William,  however,  was  let  out  to  Major 
Freeland,  an  inn-keeper  in  St.  Louis.  Freeland  was 
from  Virginia,  and  claimed  to  be  one  of  the  aristocracy 
of  the  Old  Dominion.  The  Major  was  a horse-racer, 
gambler,  cock-fighter,  and  was  occasionally  drunk,  and 
would  then  rave  about  like  a madman.  When  in  these 
fits,  he  would  take  up  a chair  and  throw  it  at  any  of 
the  servants  who  came  in  his  way.  William  had  been 
with  Freeland  but  a few  weeks,  when  the  Major  tied 
the  young  slave  up  in  the  smoke-house,  after  whipping 
him  severely,  and  caused  him  to  be  smoked  with  tobac- 
co, the  boy  sneezing,  coughing  and  weeping  during  this 
fiendish  act. 

William  ran  away,  and  went  home  and  told  his  mas- 
ter of  his  ill  treatment  by  Freeland.  Instead  of  the 
Doctor  sympathizing  with  his  nephew,  he  flogged  the 
boy,  and  sent  him  back  to  his  employer.  Fearing 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


15 


another  punishment  from  the  drunken  inn-keeper, 
William  ran  away  and  remained  in  the  woods.  But 
there  he  was  not  long  safe,  for  some  negro-hunters, 
with  their  dogs,  came  along,  and  the  animals  were  soon 
on  the  scent  of  the  young  fugitive,  who  was  captured, 
after  taking  refuge  in  a tree,  and  again  returned  to  his 
master.  Major  Freeland.  William  received  another 
flogging,  and  after  being  once  more  smoked,  was  again 
put  to  work. 

After  remaining  with  this  monster  for  some  months, 
the  young  and  friendless  slave-boy  was  hired  out  as  a 
servant  on  one  of  the  steamers  running  between  St. 
Louis  and  Galena.  Here  he  was  first  impressed 
with  a love  for  freedom.  As  he  saw  others  going 
from  place  to  place,  and  using  the  liberty  that  God 
endowed  every  human  being  with,  he  pined  to  be 
as  free  as  those  who  moved  about  him.  Being  at  St. 
Louis  on  the  Fourth  of  July,  William  had  an  opportu- 
nity of  hearing  an  oration  from  the  Hon.  Thomas  Hart 
Benton.  The  boy’s  young  heart  leaped  with  enthusi- 
asm as  he  listened  to  the  burning  eloquence  of  “ Old 
Bullion.”  It  is  a dangerous  thing  to  permit  a slave  to 
hear  these  July  orations;  it  kindles  a feeling  in  favor 
of  freedom  which  can  never  be  effaced.  It  was  so  with 
William.  “We  hold  these  truths  to  be  self-evident: 
that  all  men  are  created  equal ; that  they  are  endowed 
by  their  Creator  with  certain  unalienable  rights ; that 
among  these  are  life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of  happi- 
ness ; that  to  secure  these  rights,  governments  are 
instituted  among  men,  deriving  their  just  powers  from 
the  consent  of  the  governed,”  — said  the  Senator,  in 


16 


BIOGRAPHY  OP 


concluding  his  speech ; and  these  words,  quoted  from 
our  Declaration  of  Independence,  were  indelibly  im- 
pressed on  the  heart  of  this  uneducated  boy.  In  his 
sleep,  he  dreamed  of  freedom ; when  awake,  his  thoughts 
were  about  liberty,  and  how  he  could  secure  it. 

From  the  moment  that  William  heard  the  speech  of 
Mr.  Benton,  he  resolved  that  he  would  he  free,  and  to 
this  early  determination,  the  cause  of  human  freedom  is 
indebted  for  one  of  its  most  effective  advocates. 

At  the  close  of  the  summer,  the  boy  was  again  taken 
home  to  the  Doctor’s  plantation,  and  put  to  work  in  the 
field  under  Haskell,  the  overseer.  The  change  was  so 
great,  that  William  wilted  down  under  the  hot  sun,  and 
the  hard  work  given  to  him  by  the  driver.  The  poor 
slave  experienced  all  that  the  house  servant  must  go 
through,  on  being  transferred  from  the  cabin  of  a 
steamer,  or  the  master’s  mansion,  to  the  rough  labors 
of  the  field. 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


17 


CHAPTER  IV.  ' 

What ! mothers  from  their  children  riven  ? 

"What  ! God’s  own  image  bought  and  sold  ? 

Americans  to  market  driven, 

Amd  bartered,  as  the  brutes,  for  gold?” 

Speculation  and  mismanagement  had  so  far  reduced 
the  Doctor’s  finances,  that  he  found  himself  compelled 
to  sell  some  of  his  slaves  to  repair  his  affairs,  and 
Elizabeth,  William’s  mother,  was  among  the  first  that 
were  sold.  William  had  three  brothers,  who,  together 
with  his  mother,  were  taken  to  the  St.  Louis  negro 
market,  and  sold  to  the  highest  bidder.  The  hoys 
were  purchased  by  a slave-trader,  and  sent  off  to  the 
lower  country;  but  the  mother  was  more  fortunate, 
and  became  the  slave  of  Isaac  Mansfield,  a gentleman 
residing  in  the  city  of  St.  Louis.  The  last  tidings 
that  William  had  of  his  brothers  was,  that  they  had 
been  bought  by  a planter,  and  sent  to  his  farm  on  the 
Yazoo  River.  If  still  living,  they  are  lingering  out  a 
miserable  existence  on  a cotton,  sugar,  or  rice  planta- 
tion, in  a part  of  the  country  where  the  life  of  the  slave 
has  no  parallel  in  deeds  of  atrocity.  Nothing  can  he 
worse  than  slavery  in  Louisiana  and  Mississippi,  on  the 
hanks  of  the  noblest  river  in  the  world.  A ride  down 
that  beautiful  stream  on  one  of  the  western  floating 
palaces,  causes  one’s  heart  to  ache  at  seeing  humanity 
so  degraded.  The  rich  plantations,  waving  with  green 


2* 


18 


BIO Q BA PHY  OF 


and  golden  crops  of  cane,  are  interspersed  here  and 
there  by  a cotton  plantation,  with  intervals  of  untrod- 
den forests  hanging  over  the  banks,  showing  Nature  in 
her  most  luxuriant  state.  Nothing  can  exceed  the 
grandeur  and  beauty  of  the  land  thus  cursed  by  the 
foul  system  of  negro  slavery.  Truly  may  it  be  said, 
that  this  outrageous  and  unnatural  institution  has 
monopolized  the  best  soil  and  finest  climate  in  the  New 
World. 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


19 


CHAPTER  V. 

“ For  now  the  ripened  cane 
Was  ready  for  the  knife, 

And  not  a slave  could  be  spared  to  aid 
His  mother  or  his  wife.” 


In  the  cotton  districts,  the  picking  season  is  always 
the  most  severe  for  the  bondman,  for  when  they  gather 
in  the  cotton,  the  slaves  are  worked  from  fifteen  to 
twenty  hours  out  of  the  twenty-four.  The  sugar-mak- 
ing season  commences  about  the  middle  or  last  of  Oc- 
tober, and  continues  from  four  to  ten  weeks,  according 
to  the  season  and  other  circumstances ; but  more  espe- 
cially, the  number  of  hands  on  the  plantation,  and  the 
amount  of  sugar  to  he  made.  As  soon  as  the  cane  is 
ready  for  harvesting,  the  grinding-mill  is  got  in  order, 
wood  hauled,  the  boiling-house  cleaned  out,  the  kettles 
scoured,  the  coolers  caulked,  and  the  casks  arranged  to 
receive  the  sugar.  Before  the  cane  is  gathered  in, 
plants,  or  sprouts,  as  they  are  sometimes  called,  are 
secured  for  the  next  season.  This  is  done  by  cutting 
cane  and  putting  it  in  matelas^ — or  mattressing  it,  as 
it  is  commonly  denominated.  The  cane  is  cut  and 
thrown  into  different  parcels  in  the  field,  in  quantities 
sufficient  to  plant  several  acres,  and  so  placed  that  the 
tops  of  one  layer  may  completely  cover  and  protect  the 
stalks  of  another.  When  the  required  amount  is  thus 
obtained,  the  whole  gang  of  slaves  is  employed  in  cut- 


20 


BIOGRAPHY  OP 


ting  cane  and  taking  it  to  the  mill.  The  top  is  first 
cut  from  the  cane,  and  then  the  stalks  cut  as  close 
to  the  ground  as  possible,  thrown  into  carts,  or  taken 
on  the  backs  of  mules  to  the  grinding-house.  As  soon 
as  it  reaches  the  mill,  it  is  twice  passed  between  iron 
rollers,  so  that  not  a particle  of  juice  is  left  in  the 
stalk,  the  former  passing  into  vats,  or  receivers,  while 
the  trash  is  thrown  into  carts,  and  conveyed  from  the 
mill  and  burned.  After  the  juice  is  pressed  from  the 
cane,  it  is  put  into  boilers,  and  transferred  from  one  to 
another,  until  it  reaches  the  last  kettle,  or  teach,  as  it 
is  termed.  The  sugar  has  then  attained  the  granulat- 
ing point,  and  is  thus  conveyed  into  the  coolers,  which 
hold  between  two  and  three  hogsheads.  It  is  then 
removed  to  the  draining-house,  after  remaining  twenty- 
four  houis  in  the  coolers,  and  soon  after  is  put  into  the 
hogsheads.  Here  it  undergoes  the  process  of  draining 
for  five  or  six  days,  and  is  then  ready  for  the  market. 
A second-rate  sugar  is  always  made,  after  the  first- 
class  is  manufactured. 

During  the  whole  of  this  process,  the  driver  is  never 
seen  without  a short-handled  whip  in  his  hand.  The 
lash  of  the  negro-whip  is  from  four  to  six  feet  in 
length,  made  of  cowhide,  and  sometimes  wire  plaited  in 
with  the  leather.  The  handle  of  the  whip,  or  the  butt, 
is  not  unfrequently  loaded  or  filled  with  lead. 

Such  is  the  process  through  which  the  sugar  has  to 
pass  before  it  finds  its  way  upon  the  tables  of  the  peo- 
ple of  the  free  States.  William  shrank  back  at  the 
thought  of  his  brothers  dragging  out  their  lives  upon  a 
cotton  or  sugar  plantation. 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


21 


CHAPTEE  VI. 

“ A bitter  smile  was  on  her  cheek. 

And  a dark  flash  in  her  eye.” 

After  remaining  on  the  farm  for  a few  weeks,  under 
the  iron  rule  of  the  overseer,  William  was  again  hired 
out  to  the  proprietors  of  the  steamer  “ Enterprise.” 
On  the  second  trip  of  the  boat’s  return  from  Galena, 
she  took  on  board,  at  Hannibal,  a noted  slave-trader, 
named  Walker,  who  had  with  him  between  fifty  and 
sixty  slaves,  consisting  chiefly  of  men  and  women 
adapted  to  field  service.  In  this  gang  of  slaves,  how- 
ever, was  a young  woman,  apparently  about  twenty 
years  of  age,  with  blue  eyes,  straight  brown  hair, 
prominent  features,  and  perfectly  white,  with  no  indi- 
cation whatever  that  a drop  of  African  blood  coursed 
through  her  veins.  In  describing  this  girl,  in  the 
published  narrative  of  his  life,  Mr.  Brown  says : — 
“ The  woman  attracted  universal  attention;  but  it  was 
not  so  much  the  fairness  of  her  complexion  that  created 
such  a sensation  among  those  who  gazed  upon  her  finely 
chiselled  features ; it  was  her  almost  unequalled  beauty. 
She  had  been  on  board  but  a short  time,  before  both 
ladies  and  gentlemen  left  their  easy  chairs  to  view  the 
white  slave.  Throughout  the  day,  the  topic  of  conver- 
sation was  the  beautiful  slave  girl.”  This  young 
woman  was  the  daughter  of  a slaveholder,  by  one  of  his 


22 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


mulatto  servants.  Much  anxiety  was  felt  among  the 
passengers  to  learn  the  history  of  this  beautiful  and 
innocent  creature.  The  trader  kept  near  her  all  the 
time.  On  the  arrival  of  the  boat  at  St.  Louis,  the 
gang,  including  the  white  slave,  was  removed  to 
another  steamer,  bound  for  New  Orleans,  and  the 
speculator,  no  doubt,  on  reaching  the  place  of  his  des- 
tination, sold  this  American  daughter  for  a high  price, 
on  account  of  her  personal  charms. 

The  steamer  soon  after  being  laid  up  for  the  re- 
mainder of  the  season,  William  was  once  more  taken 
home,  and  employed  as  a house  servant  and  carriage- 
driver.  It  was  while  acting  in  this  capacity,  that  a 
deed  of  cruelty  was  committed,  which  is  graphically 
described  by  Mr.  Brown  in  his  published  narrative. 
While  driving  his  master’s  carriage  to  church  one 
Sabbath  morning,  he  saw  Mr.  D.  D.  Page,  with  whom 
he  was  well  acquainted,  chasing  one  of  his  slaves  round 
the  yard,  cutting  him  at  every  jump  with  a long  negro- 
whip.  Mr.  Page,  seeing  the  truthful  charges  of  Mr. 
Brown  published,  employed  the  Rev.  Dr.  A.  Bullard,  a 
pro-slavery,  negro-hating  clergyman,  formerly  of  the 
North,  but  now  of  St.  Louis,  to  refute  the  charge ; 
which  the  Doctor  attempted  to  do,  in  a series  of  articles 
published  in  the  columns  of  Northern  pro-slavery  pa- 
pers of  his  own  denomination.  But  the  Presbyterian 
D.D.,  instead  of  mending  the  matter  for  his  patron, 
made  it  worse,  and  caused  the  public  to  regard  himself 
as  a miserable  tool.  Mr.  Page  has  since  failed  in  his 
banking  business,  and  swindled  his  creditors  out  of 
large  sums ; and  has  no  doubt  lost  the  misplaced  con- 
fidence of  his  renegade  theological  friend. 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


23 


Haskell,  the  overseer,  experienced  religion  about  this 
time,  and  joined  the  Duncards,  a religious  sect  located 
at  the  Southwest,  who  baptise  by  immersion,  dipping 
their  converts  three  times.  The  overseer  being  an  un- 
principled scamp,  noted  for  his  drinking  propensities, 
and  for  cheating  all  with  whom  he  dealt,  a large  num- 
ber of  persons  assembled  to  witness  the  baptismal  cer- 
emony performed  on  the  negro-driver.  Some  of  the 
blacks  are  very  superstitious,  and  are  of  opinion  that 
the  Lord  will  answer  their  prayers,  in  any  case  when 
they  ask  for  the  extermination  of  bad  men.  So,  the 
day  that  the  overseer  was  led  to  the  pond  to  have  his 
sins  washed  out,  not  less  than  nine  of  the  oldest  slaves 
went  on  their  knees,  and  prayed  that  the  cruel  negro- 
driver  might  not  come  out  of  the  water  alive.  Among 
the  crowd  that  had  come  together  was  old  Peter  Swite, 
who  kept  a dram  shop,  and  who  complained  that  Has- 
kell owed  him  several  dollars  for  drink,  but  which  the 
overseer  denied.  As  John  Mason,  the  minister,  pulled 
the  negro-driver  up,  after  dipping  him  the  third  time, 
old  Peter  took  his  pipe  from  his  mouth,  and  cried  out, 
at  the  top  of  his  voice,  “Douce  him  again,  John! 
He ’s  a dirty  dog ; I know  him  well ; he  never  pays 
his  debts.”  So  the  minister,  either  forgetting  himself, 
or  really  thinking  his  new  convert  needed  the  fourth 
dip,  put  the  sinner  once  more  under  the  water.  This 
last  plunge  came  near  drowning  him,  for  the  man  of 
God  was  much  exhausted,  and  was  scarcely  able  to  lift 
the  negro-driver  out  of  the  water,  and  the  latter  had 
taken  two  or  three  hearty  drinks  before  he  was  drawn 
to  the  surface.  Although  the  prayers  of  the  slaves 


24 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


were  not  answered,  they  nevertheless  took  great  credit 
to  themselves  for  the  misstep  of  the  minister.  That 
night,  the  slaves  on  the  whole  plantation  were  in  the 
highest  glee.  The  opossums  that  had  been  lying  in 
the  frost  were  taken  down  and  baked  with  sweet  pota- 
toes, and  every  voice  ascended  to  God,  either  in  prayer 
or  in  song,  for  the  half  success  of  their  prayers  at  the 
baptism. 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


25 


CHAPTEK  VII. 


“ Give  me  my  child  ! ” a mother  cried, 

“My  sweet,  my  lovely  ,boy  — 

(“  Give  me  my  child  ! ” the  rocks  replied) — 

Or  else  my  life  destroy  ! ” 

Want  of  money  induced  Dr.  Young  to  hire  William 
out  again,  and  this  time  the  young  slave  was  placed  in 
the  hands  of  Walker,  the  negro-trader  of  whom  we 
have  made  mention  in  a preceding  chapter.  The  spec- 
ulator had  noticed  William’s  activity  and  usefulness  as 
a waiter  on  the  steamboat,  and  being  always  on  the 
look-out  for  valuable  slaves,  called  on  Dr.  Young,  and 
offered  a high  price  for  the  piece  of  property.  The 
Doctor,  however,  declined  selling;  whereupon,  the 
trader,  wanting  a man  to  look  after  his  slaves  that  he 
took  to  market,  resolved  to  hire  William  for  the  period 
of  one  year,  with  the  hope  of  buying  him  at  the  expi- 
ration of  the  term.  Walker  was  an  uncouth,  ill-bred 
man,  with  little  or  no  education.  Before  embarking  as 
a negro-driver,  he  had  been  a dray-driver  in  St.  Louis, 
and  had  earned,  by  his  own  hard  labor,  the  capital  with 
which  he  commenced  in  trade.  Money  was  the  only 
God  he  worshipped,  and  he  knelt  at  no  altar  but  that 
erected  at  the  expense  of  suffering  humanity.  William 
shuddered  at  the  idea  of  having  such  a man  for  a mas- 
ter, but  there  was  no  alternative. 

In  no  situation  could  he  have  been  placed  to  give 


26 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


him  an  opportunity  of  ■witnessing  more  seenes  of  cru- 
elty and  outrage  than  this.  The  trader  had  a number 
of  slaves  on  hand,  and  immediately  prepared  to  start 
with  his  human  cattle  for  the  New  Orleans  market. 
Between  sixty  and  seventy  men  and  women,  chained  in 
pairs,  with  here  and  there  a mother  with  a young  child 
unchained,  made  up  the  first  coffle.  The  speculator 
advertised  in  the  Natchez,  Vicksburg  and  New  Orleans 
papers,  that  he  would  be  there  at  a given  time,  with  a 
lot  of  healthy  negroes,  between  fifteen  and  twenty-five 
years  of  age.  He  seldom,  however,  took  down  a gang 
of  slaves  without  having  some  who  were  further  ad- 
vanced in  years. 

Soon  after  leaving  St.  Louis,  William  had  to  com- 
mence preparing  the  slaves  for  the  market.  The  old 
men’s  gray  hairs  were  plucked  from  their  heads,  and 
their  whiskers  shaved  off  clean ; and  where  the  white 
hairs  were  too  numerous,  hair  dye  was  used  to  bring 
about  the  desired  color.  These  old  men  and  women 
were  also  told  how  old  they  were  to  be,  when  undergo- 
ing an  examination  by  those  who  might  wish  to  pur- 
chase. 

Not  less  than  four  lots  of  slaves  were  purchased  by 
this  monster  in  human  shape,  and  resold  further  South, 
during  the  year  that  William  was  with  this  “soul- 
driver.”  On  the  arrival  of  the  trader  at  New  Orleans 
with  his  merchandise,  swarms  of  planters  and  small 
speculators  might  be  seen  making  their  Avay  to  Mr. 
Walker’s  slave-pen.  Once,  when  marching  his  gang 
of  slaves  from  St.  Charles  to  St.  Louis,  by  land,  the 
trader  had  among  them  a woman,  with  a sick  child, 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


27 


wMcli  cried  during  the  most  of  the  first  day.  Walker 
repeatedly  told  the  mother  if  she  did  not  stop  the  child, 
he  would.  On  the  second  morning,  as  they  were  leav- 
ing the  tavern  where  they  had  put  up  over  night,  the 
infant  again  commenced  crying.  The  speculator  at 
once  took  the  child  from  its  mother’s  arms,  turned  to 
the  landlady,  who  was  standing  in  the  doorway,  and 
said,  — “ Here,  madam,  permit  me  to  present  this  little 
Tiigger  to  you ; it  makes  such  a noise  that  it  affects  my 
nerves.”  The  landlady  received  the  babe  from  the 
hands  of  the  negro-trader  with  a smile,  and  said, — 
“ I am  exceedingly  obliged  to  you,  sir,  indeed.  I take 
this  present  as  a token  of  your  kindness  and  generos- 
ity.” Frantic  ivith  grief,  the  mother  fell  upon  her 
knees  before  the  inhuman  trader,  and  besought  him  to 
give  her  back  her  child,  promising  that  she  would  keep 
it  from  crying.  Walker  bade  the  woman  return  to  the 
gang  with  the  other  slaves,  or  he  would  flog  her 
severely.  But  not  until  the  heavy  negro-whip  was 
applied  to  her  shoulders  did  the  almost  heart-broken 
mother  leave  her  dear  little  child.  A few  days  after, 
and  while  on  the  steamer  going  to  the  New  Orleans 
market,  this  outraged  American  woman  threw  herself 
from  the  deck  of  the  boat  into  the  waters  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi, never  to  rise  again. 

This  heartless,  cruel,  ungodly  man,  who  neither 
loved  his  Maker  nor  feared  Satan,  was  a fair  repre- 
sentative of  thousands  of  demons  in  human  form  that 
are  engaged  in  buying  and  selling  God’s  children. 
The  more  William  saw  of  slavery,  while  with  Walker, 
the  more  he  hated  it,  and  determined  to  free  himself 


28 


BIOGRAPHY  OP 


from  its  chains.  The  love  of  freedom  is  a sentiment 
natural  to  the  human  heart,  and  the  want  of  it  is  felt 
bj  him  who  does  not  possess  it.  He  feels  it  a reproach, 
and  with  this  sting,  this  wounded  pride,  hating  degra- 
dation, and  looking  forward  to  the  cravings  of  the 
heart,  the  enslaved  is  always  on  the  alert  for  an  oppor- 
tunity to  escape  from  his  oppressors  and  to  avenge  his 
wrongs.  What  greater  injury  and  indignity  can  he 
offered  to  man,  than  to  make  him  the  bond-slave  of  his 
fellow-man? 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


29 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

“ The  hounds  are  baying  on  my  track, 

O,  Christian  ! do  not  send  me  back  ! ” 

After  a year  spent  in  the  employment  of  the  slave- 
driver,  Walker,  William  was  sent  home  to  his  master, 
where  new  scenes  were  opened  to  him.  Although 
hard  pressed  for  money.  Dr.  Toung  declined  selling 
William  to  the  slave-speculator,  for  he  no  doubt  had 
some  conscientious  scruples  against  allowing  his  young 
kinsman  to  he  taken  to  the  cotton  fields  of  the  far 
South.  He  therefore  gave  his  nephew  a note,  permit- 
ting him  to  find  a purchaser  who  would  pay  five  hun- 
dred dollars  for  him.  With  this  document,  the  young 
slave  set  out  for  St.  Louis,  about  four  miles  distant 
from  the  farm.  Elizabeth,  William’s  sister,  who  had 
been  sold  a fev/  days  previous,  was  still  in  the  St. 
Louis  jail ; and  on  arriving  in  the  city,  his  first  impulse 
was  to  visit  her,  to  whom  he  was  tenderly  attached. 
He  called  at  the  prison,  and  after  being  twice  refused 
admission,  succeeded  in  seeing  his  sister  for  the  last 
time.  She  was  sold  to  a slave-trader,  and  taken  to  the 
Southern  market,  and  was  never  heard  of  again  by 
William. 

From  the  jail,  the  poor  young  slave  went  to  his 
mother,  and  persuaded  her  to  fly  with  him  to  Canada. 
With  scarcely  food  enough  for  three  days,  William  and 


30 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


his  mother  crossed  the  river  one  dark  night,  and 
started  for  a land  of  freedom,  with  no  guide  but  the 
North  Star.  Again  and  again  they  looked  back  at  the 
lights,  as  they  wended  their  way  from  the  city,  not 
knowing  whether  they  would  succeed  in  their  arduous 
undertaking,  or  be  arrested  and  taken  back.  They 
well  knew  that  the  runaway  slave  could  find  no  sympa- 
thy from  the  people  of  Illinois,  and  therefore  did  not 
travel  during  the  day.  Night  after  night  did  these 
two  fugitives  come  out  of  their  hiding-place,  and  with 
renewed  vigor  wend  their  way  northward.  No  one 
can  imagine  how  wearily  the  hours  passed  during  the 
days  they  remained  in  the  woods,  waiting  for  night  to 
overshadow  them.  Most  truly  has  the  poet  entered 
into  the  slave’s  feelings,  when  he  says,  — 

“ Star  of  the  North  ! while  blazing  day 
Pours  round  me  its  full  tide  of  light, 

And  hides  thy  pale  but  faithful  ray, 

I,  too,  lie  liid,  and  long  for  night.” 

The  anxiety  of  the  fugitives  may  be  conceived  from 
the  following  remarks  of  Mr.  Brown,  in  his  published 
narrative  : — “As  we  travelled  towards  a land  of  lib- 
erty, my  heart  would  at  times  leap  for  joy;  at  other 
times,  being,  as  I was,  almost  continually  on  my  feet, 
I felt  as  though  I could  go  no  further.  But  when  I 
thought  of  slavery,  with  its  democratic  negro-whips, 
its  republican  chains,  its  well-trained  bloodhounds,  its 
pious,  evangelical  slaveholders,  — when  I thought  of  all 
this  American  hypocrisy,  false  democracy  and  religion 
behind  me,  and  the  prospect  of  liberty  before  me,  I 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


31 


was  encouraged  to  press  forward ; my  heart  was  strength- 
ened, and  I forgot  that  I was  either  tired  or  hungry.” 
But  the  fugitives  were  not  destined  to  realize  their 
hearts’  fondest  wishes.  On  missing  the  runaways,  the 
slaveholders  put  advertisements  in  the  St.  Louis  news- 
papers, which  had  an  extensive  circulation  in  Illinois, 
besides  sending  printed  handbills,  by  mail,  to  the  post- 
masters in  the  towns  through  which  it  was  expected  the 
fugitives  would  pass.  On  the  tenth  day,  William  and 
his  mother  determined  to  travel  by  day,  thinking  that 
they  were  out  of  the  danger  of  being  apprehended. 
They  had,  however,  been  on  the  road  but  a short  time, 
when  they  were  overtaken  by  three  men  and  arrested. 
None  but  one  who  has  been  a slave,  and  made  the 
attempt  to  escape,  and  failed,  can  at  all  enter  into  the 
feelings  of  , the  fugitive  who  is  caught  and  returned  to 
the  doom  from  which  he  supposed  he  had  escaped. 
William  and  his  mother  were  carried  back  to  St.  Louis, 
and  safely  lodged  in  prison  until  their  masters  should 
take  them  out. 


32 


BIOGRAPHY  OP 


CHAPTER  IX. 


“ Throw  open  to  the  light  of  day 
The  bondman’s  cell,  and  break  away 

The  chains  the  State  has  bound  on  him ! ” 


As  the  slave  becomes  enlightened,  and  shows  that  he 
knows  he  has  a right  to  be  free,  his  value  depreciates. 
A slave  who  has  once  ran  away  is  shunned  by  the 
slaveholders,  just  as  the  wild,  unruly  horse  is  shunned 
by  those  who  wish  an  animal  for  trusty  service.  The 
slave  who  is  caught  in  the  attempt  to  escape  is  pretty 
sure  of  being  sold  and  sent  off  to  the  cotton,  sugar, 
or  rice  fields  of  Georgia,  or  other  slave-consuming 
States.  Every  thing  is  done  to  keep  the  slave  in  igno- 
rance of  his  rights.  But  God  has  planted  a spark  in 
the  breast  of  man,  that  teaches  him  that  he  was  not 
created  to  be  the  slave  of  another.  Truth  is  omnipo- 
tent, and  will  make  its  way  even  to  the  heart  of  the 
most  degraded.  How  well  has  the  author  of  the 
“ Pleasures  of  Hope  ” portrayed  the  progress  of  truth  ! 

“ Where  barbarous  hordes  ou  Scythian  mountains  roam, 
Truth,  mercjf,  freedom,  yet  shall  find  a home ; 

Where’er  degraded  nature  bleeds  and  pines. 

From  Guinea’s  coast  to  Siber’s  dreary  mines. 

Truth  shall  pervade  the  unfathomed  darkness  there. 

And  light  the  dreadful  features  of  despair. 

Hark  ! the  stern  captive  spurns  his  heavy  load. 

And  asks  the  image  back  that  Heaven  bestowed  ; 

Fierce  in  his  eye  the  fire  of  valor  burns. 

And,  as  the  slave  departs,  the  man  returns.” 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


33 


The  truth  which  had  broken  in  upon  William’s  mind 
made  him  a dangerous  person  in  the  midst  of  the  slave 
population  of  the  South,  and  he  scarcely  hoped  to  find 
a home  any  where  short  of  a cotton  plantation.  Dr. 
Young,  as  soon  as  he  was  informed  that  his  slave  had 
been  caught,  had  him  taken  to  the  farm  and  well  secured 
until  he  could  sell  him.  A wish  on  the  part  of  the 
Doctor  to  get  a good  price  for  William,  induced  him 
to  conceal  the  slave’s  attempt  to  escape.  This  was  very 
fortunate  for  William,  for  in  a few  days  he  was  sold  to 
Mr.  Samuel  Willi,  a merchant  in  St.  Louis.  But 
William’s  mother  was  not  so  fortunate,  for  she  was 
placed  in  the  hands  of  the  slave-trader,  and  carried  to 
the  slave  market  of  New  Orleans.  How  pathetically 
Mr.  Brown  has  described  the  parting  scene  with  his 
mother  ! “It  was  about  ten  o’clock  in  the  morning,” 
says  he,  “when  I went  on  board  the  steamboat  where 
my  mother  had  been  taken,  with  other  slaves,  bound  for 
the  lower  country.  I found  her  chained  to  another 
woman.  On  seeing  me,  she  dropped  her  head  upon 
her  bosom,  her  emotion  being  too  deep  for  tears.  I 
approached  her  and  fell  upon  my  knees,  threw  my 
arms  around  her  neck,  and  mingled  my  tears  with  hers, 
that  now  began  to  flow.  Feeling  that  I was  to  blame 
for  her  being  in  the  hands  of  the  slave-speculator,  I 
besought  my  mother  to  forgive  me.  With  that  gene- 
rosity which  was  one  of  her  chief  characteristics,  and 
that  love  which  seldom  forsakes  a mother,  she  said,  — • 
‘■My  child^  you  are  not  to  blame.  You  did  %vhat 
you  could  to  free  me  and  yourself ; and  in  this,  you 
did  nothing  more  than  your  duty.  Do  not  weep 


34 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


for  me.  I am  old,  and  cannot  last  much  longer.  I 
feel  that  I must  soon  go  home  to  my  heavenly  Mas- 
ter, and  then  I shall  be  out  of  the  power  of  the  slave- 
dealer.’  I could  hear  no  more ; my  heart  struggled  to 
free  itself  from  the  human  frame.  The  boat  bell  rang, 
as  a signal  for  all  who  were  not  going  with  the  boat  to 
get  on  shore.  Once  more  I embraced  my  mother,  and 
she  whispered  in  my  ear,  — '■My  child,  we  must  now 
part,  to^meet  no  more  on  this  side  the  grave.  You 
have  always  said  you,  woidd  not  die  a slave  ; I be- 
seech of  you  to  keep  this  y)i'omise.  Try,  my  dear 
son,  to  get  your  freedom ! ’ The  tolling  of  the  bell 
informed  me  that  I must  go  on  shore.  I stood  and 
witnessed  the  departure  of  all  that  Avas  dear  to  me  on 
earth.” 

This  separation  of  the  mother  from  the  son  inspired 
the  latter  Avith  renewed  determination  to  escape ; but 
this  resolve  he  kept  locked  up  in  his  OAvn  heart. 


AI^  AMERICxVN  BONDMAN. 


35 


CHAPTER  X. 

“ O,  what  is  life  if  love  be  lost,  4 
If  man ’s  unSiiid  to  man  ? ” 

While  employed  on  board  the  steamer  “ Otto,” 
■where  his  new  master  placed  him,  William  had  his 
own  feelings  often  lacerated,  by  seeing  his  fellow-crea- 
tures carried  in  large  gangs  down  the  Mississippi  to  the 
Southern  market.  These  dark  and  revolting  pictures 
of  slavery  frequently  caused  him  to  question  the  refine- 
ment of  feeling  and  goodness  of  heart  so  bountifully 
claimed  by  the  Anglo-Saxon,  and,  in  the  language  of 
the  poet,  he  would  think  to  himself, — 

“ Say,  flows  not  in  the  negro’s  vein. 

Unchecked  and  free,  without  control, 

A tide  as  pure,  and  clear  from  stain. 

As  feeds  and  warms  the  zvM'ie  man’s  soul  ? ” 

Continued  intercourse  with  educated  persons,  and 
meeting  on  the  steamer  so  many  travellers  from  the 
free  States,  caused  the  slave  to  feel  more  keenly  his 
degraded  and  unnatural  situation.  He  gained  much 
information  respecting  the  North  and  Canada,  that  was 
valuable  to  him  in  his  final  escape. 

In  his  written  narrative,  Mr.  Brown  says,  — “The 
anxiety  to  be  a freeman  would  not  let  me  rest  day  nor 
night.  I would  think  of  the  Northern  cities  I had 
heard  so  much  about,  — of  Canada,  where  many  of  my 


36 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


acquaintances  had  found  a refuge  from  their  tyrannical 
masters.  I would  dream  at  night  that  I was  on  British 
soil,  a freeman,  and  on  awaking,  weep  to  find  myself  a 
slave. 

‘ I would  think  of  Victoria’s  domain, 

In  a moment  I seemed  to  be  there ; 

But  the  fear  of  being  taken  again, 

Soon  hurried  me  back  to  despah.’ 


Thoughts  of  the  future,  and  my  heart  yearning  for 
liberty,  kept  me  always  planning  to  escape.” 

After  remaining  more  than  a year  the  property  of 
Mr.  Willi,  William  was  sold  to  Capt.  Enoch  Price, 
also  a resident  of  St.  Louis.  This  change  was  the 
turning-point  in  the  young  slave’s  life. 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


37 


CHAPTER  XI. 

“ Give  me  liberty  or  give  me  death  ! ” 

Capt.  Price,  -who  became  the  last  purchaser  of 
William,  was  the  owner  of  several  steamers,  and  a 
partner  in  a firm  in  St.  Louis,  engaged  in  the  business 
of  purchasing  and  shipping  produce  to  the  Southern 
States.  The  young  slave  had  been  with  the  Prices 
scarcely  three  months,  when . the  family  resolved 
upon  a visit  to  New  Orleans,  and  it  was  settled 
that  William  should  accompany  them,  as  a servant. 
In  due  t.me,  Capt.  Price,  with  his  wife  and  daughter, 
attended  by  their  new  chattel,  set  out  on  their  journey, 
in  one  of  the  Captain’s  boats,  the  steamer  “ Chester.” 
The  boat,  instead  of  returning  to  St.  Louis,  took  in  a 
cargo  at  New  Orleans  for  Cincinnati,  and  the  Captain 
and  his  family  concluded  to  extend  their  visit  to  the 
latter  place.  It  was  the  middle  of  December  when  the 
boat  left  New  Orleans,  with  a large  number  of  passen- 
gers and  a heavy  load  of  freight.  The  Prices  had 
some  fears  about  bringing  the  slave  to  the  frontiers  of 
the  free  States,  and  Mrs.  Price  sounded  William,  to  see 
if  he  had  any  thoughts  about  freedom.  As  a matter  of 
course,  the  young  slave  expressed  a wish  to  return  to 
St.  Louis  as  soon  as  possible,  and  seemed  to  dislike  the 
idea  of  going  to  a free  State.  Well  pleased  with  his 
seeming  indifference  about  liberty,  and  not  being  able 


88 


BIOGRAPHY  OP 


to  dispense  with  his  services,  the  family  determined  to 
take  William  to  Cincinnati  with  them. 

In  due  time,  the  boat  arrived  at  the  place  of  her  des- 
tination, landed  her  passengers,  and  discharged  her 
cargo.  Twenty  years  ago,  there  was  little  or  no  anti- 
slavery feeling  in  the  southern  part  of  the  State  of 
Ohio.  Few  persons  thought  it  wrong  to  catch  a runa- 
way slave  and  return  him  to  his  master,  and  a fugitive 
ran  as  much  risk  in  attempting  to  escape  through  the 
Buckeye  State,  at  that  time,  as  he  would  in  the  adjoin- 
ing State  of  Kentucky.  William,  however,  had  re- 
solved to  make  the  attempt,  ivithout  any  regard  to 
consequences.  In  his  published  narrative  he  says:  — 
“ During  the  last  night  that  I served  in  slavery,  I did 
not  close  my  eyes  a single  moment  in  sleep.  When 
not  thinking  of  the  future,  my  mind  dwelt  on  the  past. 
The  thought  of  a dear  mother,  and  an  affectionate  sister 
and  three  brothers,  yet  living  under  the  dominion  of 
whips  and  scourges,  caused  me  to  shed  many  tears.  If 
I could  have  been  assured  that  they  were  dead,  I should 
have  felt  satisfied.  But  I imagined  I saw  my  mother 
in  the  cotton  field,  followed  by  the  merciless  task- 
master. I thought  of  the  probability  of  my  sister  and 
brothers  being  in  the  hands  of  negro-drivers  or  specu- 
lators, subjected  to  all  the  cruelties  that  the  hateful 
institution  allows  them  to  inflict ; and  these  thoughts 
made  me  feel  very  sad  indeed.” 

At  last  the  trying  moment  came.  It  was  the  first 
■day  of  January,  1834,  when,  without  a shilling  in  his 
pocket,  and  no  friend  to  advise  him,  William  quitted 
his  master’s  boat,  and,  taking  the  North  Star  for  his 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


89 


guide,  started  for  Canada.  During  fifteen  nights  did 
this  half-clad,  half-starved  fugitive  urge  his  weary 
limbs  to  carry  him  on  towards  a land  of  freedom. 
With  regard  to  these  eventful  days,  Mr.  Brown  says  in 
his  narrative, — “Supposing  every  person  to  be  my 
enemy,  I was  afraid  to  appeal  to  any  one,  even  for  a 
little  food,  to  keep  body  and  soul  together.  As  I 
pressed  forward,  my  escape  to  Canada  appeared  certain, 
and  this  feeling  gave  me  a light  heart,  for 

‘ Behind  I left  the  -wliips  and  chains, 

Before  me  ■were  sweet  Freedom’s  plains.’ 

While  on  my  journey  at  night,  and  passing  farms,  I 
would  seek  a corn-crib,  and  supply  myself  with  some 
of  its  contents.  The  next  day,  while  buried  in  the 
forest,  I would  make  a fire  and  roast  my  corn,  and 
drink  from  the  nearest  stream.  One  night,  while  in 
search  of  corn,  I came  upon  what  I supposed  to  be  a 
hill  of  potatoes,  buried  in  the  ground  for  want  of  a 
cellar.  I obtained  a sharp-pointed  piece  of  wood,  with 
which  I dug  away  for  more  than  an  hour,  and  on  gain- 
ing the  hidden  treasure,  found  it  to  be  turnips.  How- 
ever, I did  not  dig  for  nothing.  After  supplying  my- 
self with  about  half-a-dozen  of  the  turnips,  I again 
resumed  my  journey.  This  uncooked  food  was  indeed 
a great  luxury,  and  gave  strength  to  my  fatigued 
limbs.  The  weather  was  very  cold, — so  cold,  that  it 
drove  me  one  night  into  a barn,  where  I laid  in  the  hay 
until  morning.  A storm  overtook  me  when  about  a 
week  out.  The  rain  fell  in  torrents,  and  froze  as  it 
came  down.  My  clothes  became  stiff  with  ice.  Here 


40 


BIOGRAPHY  OP 


again  I took  shelter  in  a barn,  and  walked  about  to 
keep  frona  freezing.  Nothing  but  the  fear  of  being 
arrested  and  returned  to  slavery  prevented  me,  at  this 
time,  seeking  shelter  in  some  dwelling.  Even  when 
in  this  forlorn  condition,  I would  occasionally  find  my- 
self repeating  — 

‘ I ’U  be  free  ! I ’U  be  free  ! and  none  shall  confine 
With  fetters  and  chains,  tlris  free  spirit  of  mine  ; 

From  my  youth  have  I vowed  in  my  God  to  rely, 

And,  despite  the  ojppressor,  gain  freedom  or  die  ! ’ 

Dreary  were  the  hours  that  I spent  while  escaping 
from  America’s  greatest  evil.” 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


41 


CHAPTER  XII. 

“ O,  then,  be  kind,  wboe’er  tbou  art 
That  breathest  mortal  breath, 

And  it  shall  brighten  all  thy  life, 

And  gUd  the  vale  of  death.” 

So  fearful  are  the  tyrants  at  the  South  that  their 
victims  Tvill  recognise  themselves  as  men,  that  they 
will  not  permit  them  to%ave  a double  name.  Jim, 
Peter,  Henry,  &c.  &c.,  is  all  a slave  is  known  by. 
The  subject  of  this  memoir  was  not  an  exception  to 
this  rule.  When  William  was  six  or  seven  years  old. 
Dr.  Young,  having  no  children  of  his  own,  adopted  a 
nephew,  a son  of  his  brother  Benjamin.  This  boy’s 
name  was  William,  also,  and  not  wishing  to  have  the 
two  names  confounded,  orders  were  given  that  the  col- 
ored nephew’s  name  should  be  changed,  and  accordingly 
he  was  afterwards  called  “ Sanford.”  This  name  Wil- 
liam always  disliked,  and  resolved  that  he  would  retake 
his  former  name  should  he  succeed  in  escaping  to  Can- 
ada. 

After  having  been  fifteen  days  on  his  journey,  and 
having  passed  three  days  without  food,  and,  withal, 
suffering  much  from  illness,  William  determined  to 
seek  shelter  and  protection.  “ For  this  purpose,”  says 
he,  “I  placed  myself  behind  some  fallen  trees  near 
the  main  road,  hoping  to  see  some  colored  person. 


42 


BIOGRAPHY  OP 


thinking  I should  be  more  safe  under  the  care  of  one 
of  my  own  color.  Several  farmers  with  their  teams 
passed,  but  the  appearance  of  each  one  frightened  me 
out  of  the  idea  of  asking  for  assistance.  After  lying 
on  the  ground  for  some  time,  with  my  sore,  frost-bit- 
ten feet  benumbed  with  cold,  I saw  an  old,  white- 
haired  man,  dressed  in  a suit  of  drab,  with  a broad- 
brimmed  hat,  walking  along,  leading  a horse.  The 
man  was  evidently  walking  for  exercise.  I came  out 
from  my  hiding-place  and  told  the  stranger  I must  die 
unless  I obtained  some  assistance.  A moment’s  con- 
versation satisfied  the  old  man  that  I was  one  of  the 
oppressed,  fleeing  from  the  house  of  bondage.  From 
the  difficulty  with  which  I walked,  the  shivering  of 
my  limbs,  and  the  trembling  of  my  voice,  he  became 
convinced  that  I had  been  among  thieves^  and  he 
acted  the  part  of  the  Good  Samaritan.  This  was  the 
first  person  I had  ever  seen  of  the  religious  sect  called 
‘ Quakers.’  ” 

At  the  farm-house  of  this  good  man,  where  many  a 
poor  fugitive  slave  had  before  found  a resting-place  for 
his  jaded  feet,  William  was  treated  with  the  kindest 
care,  until  he  was  so  far  recovered  as  to  resume  his 
journey.  The  members  of  no  religious  society  are 
more  noted  for  their  good  works  than  the  Friends. 
They  are  distinguished  for  the  kindness  with  which 
they  always  receive  the  runaway  slave.  Having,  many 
years  ago,  as  a religious  society,  condemned  slavery, 
and  disfelloAVshipped  slaveholders,  they  occupy  a posi- 
tion before  the  world  that  few  other  sectarian  bodies 
can  claim.  Never  before  having  met  with  whites  to 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


43 


ejmpatliise  with  him,  and  treat  him  as  a man,  William 
was  overwhelmed  with  surprise  at  the  interest  the 
Quaker  and  his  family  took  in  him. 

“ How  softly  on  the  bruised  heart 
A word  of  kindness  falls, 

And  to  the  dry  and  parched  soul 
The  moistening  teardrop  calls.” 

When  once  more  in  a situation  to  travel,  the  good 
people  began  to  fit  out  the  fugitive  with  clothes,  so  that 
he  would  be  in  a better  condition  to  reach  the  “other 
side  of  Jordan.”  The  Quaker’s  name  was  Wells 
Brown  ; and  finding  that  his  guest  had  but  one  name, 
he  gave  the  fugitive  his  name,  as  well  as  a covering  for 
his  body.  So,  when  the  runaway  quitted  the  Quaker 
settlement,  he  left  under  the  name  of  William  Wells 
Brown. 


44 


BIOGRAPHY  OP 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

“Where’er  a single  human  breast 
Is  crushed  by  pain  and  grief, 

There  I would  ever  he  a guest,  * » 

And  sweetly  give  relief.”  , 

The  kind  and  benevolent  Quakers  ivould  gladly 
have  given  their  fugitive  guest  a home  during  the 
remainder  of  the  cold  iveather,  but  they  were  afraid  of 
his  being  sought  after  and  traced  to  their  house  by 
the  man-hunters.  After  being  supplied  with  clothes 
and  some  food^  Mr.  Brown  again  started  on  his  journey 
towards  Canada.  Although  assured  by  his 'friends 
that  he  could  travel  with  a degree  of  safety  in  the  day, 
the  fugitive  felt  that  the  night  was  the  best  time  for 
him,  and  therefore  hid  in  the  woods  during  the  day, 
and  journeyed  when  others  were  asleep.  Soon  after, 
he  arrived  at  Cleveland,  on  the  banks  of  Lake  Erie. 
The  mind  can  scarcely  picture  one  in  a more  forlorn 
condition  than  was  William  Wells  Brown  on  reach- 
ing Cleveland.  Besides  having  had  nothing  to  eat  for 
the  forty-eight  preceding  hours,  and  travelling  through 
the  woods  and  marshes,  and  over  the  frozen  roads,  he 
had  worn  out  his  shoes  and  clothes,  so  that  he  made  a 
sad  appearance.  The  lake  was  partly  frozen,  so  that 
vessels  did  not  run,  and  all  hope  of  crossing  to  Canada 
was  at  an  end.  Wearied  by  his  long  journey  on  foot, 
Mr.  Brown  did  not  feel  himself  able  to  go  on  by  the 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


45 


way  of  Buffalo  or  Detroit,  and  he  at  once  resolved  to 
hunt  up  quarters,  and  remain  in  Cleveland  until  the 
opening  of  navigation  on  the  lakes.  With  this  deter- 
mination, he  visited  every  dwelling,  until  he  found  a 
man  who  offered  to  keep  him  if  he  would  work  for  his 
board.  Here  he  sawed  wood,  and  performed  all  the 
labor  required  of  him,  for  a shelter  from  the  inclem- 
ency of  the  winter  weather. 

While  working  at  this  place,  the  fugitive  found  an 
opportunity  to  saw  a cord  of  wood  for  another  family, 
for  which  he  received  the  sum  of  twenty -jive  cents. 
With  one  half  of  this  money,  he  purchased  a spelling- 
book,  and  with-  the  other  he  bought  candy,  with  which 
he  hired  his  employer’s  little  boys  to  teach  him  to 
read. 

Some  weeks  after,  Mr.  Brown  obtained  a situation  at 
the  Mansion  House,  kept  by  Mr.  E.  M.  Segar.  But 
on  all  occasions,  he  held  on  to  his  spelling-book,  keep- 
ing it  in  his  bosom,  so  that  it  might  be  handy.  In  this 
manner  was  the  foundation  laid  for  an  education  which 
has  enabled  him  to  be  of  use  to  his  race. 

While  at  Cleveland,  Mr.  Brown  saw,  for  the  first 
time,  an  anti-slavery  paper.  It  was  the  Genius  of 
Universal  Emanciimtion.^  edited  by  Benjamin  Lundy. 

Instead  of  going  to  Canada,  on  the  opening  of  nav- 
igation in  the  spring,  he  got  a situation  on  board  the 
steamer  “Detroit.”  Here  he  worked  during  the  sea- 
son of  1834.  But  the  fugitive  was  destined  to  undergo 
more  hardships,  for  at  the  close  of  navigation,  the 
captain  ran  away  with  the  money,  and  Mr.  Brown,  with 
others,  had  to  go  without  his  pay.  Added  to  this,  he 


46 


BIOGRAPHY  OP 


had  married  during  the  autumn,  and  had  taken  upon 
himself  the  duties  and  responsibilities  of  a husband. 

Thus  defrauded  of  the  avails  of  his  nine  months’ 
labor,  the  fugitive  went  in  search  of  employment  for 
the  winter.  The  following  extract  from  an  article 
written  by  Mr.  Brown  will  give  some  idea  of  the  suc- 
cess he  met  with:  — “ In  the  autumn  of  1834,  having 
been  cheated  out  of  the  previous  summer’s  earnings  by 
the  captain  of  the  steamer  in  which  I had  been  em- 
ployed running  away  with  the  money,  I was,  like  the 
rest  of  the  men,  left  without  any  means  of  support 
during  the  winter,  and  therefore  had  to  seek  employ- 
ment in  the  neighboring  towns.  I went  to  the  town  of 
Monroe,  in  the  State  of  Michigan,  and  while  going 
through  the  streets,  looking  for  work,  I passed  the 
door  of  the  only  barber  in  the  town,  whose  shop  ap- 
peared to  be  filled  with  persons  Avaiting  to  be  shaA^ed. 
As  there  was  but  one  man  at  work,  and  as  I had,  while 
employed  on  the  steamer,  occasionally  shaved  a gentle- 
man, who  could  not  perform  that  office  himself,  it  oc- 
curred to  me  that  I might  get  employment  here  as  a 
journeyman  barber.  I therefore  made  immediate  appli- 
cation for  work,  but  the  barber  told  me  he  did  not  need 
a hand.  However,  I was  not  to  be  put  off  so  easily, 
and  after  making  several  offers  to  work  cheap,  I frankly 
told  him  that  if  he  Avould  not  employ  me,  I would  get 
a room  near  to  him,  and  set  up  an  opposition  establish- 
ment. This  threat  made  no  impression  on  the  barber, 
and  as  I was  leaving,  one  of  the  men  who  were  waiting 
to  be  shaved  said,  ‘ If  you  want  a room  in  which  to 
commence  business,  I have  one  on  the  opposite  side  of 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


47 


the  street.’  This  man  followed  me  out,  we  went  over, 
and  I looked  at  the  room.  He  strongly  urged  me  to 
set  up,  at  the  same  time  promising  to  give  me  his  influ- 
ence. I took  the  room,  purchased  an  old  table  and  two 
chairs,  got  a pole  with  a red  stripe  painted  around  it, 
and  the  next  day  opened,  with  a sign  over  the  door,  — 
‘ Fashionable  Hair-Dresser  from  New  York  — Empe- 
ror of  the  West.’  I need  not  add  that  my  enterprise 
was  very  annoying  to  the  ‘ shop  over  the  way ; ’ espe- 
cially my  sign,  which  happened  to  be  the  most  exten- 
sive part  of  the  concern.  Of  course,  I had  to  tell  all 
who  came  in  that  my  neighbor  on  the  opposite  side  did 
not  keep  clean  towels,  that  his  razors  were  dull,  and, 
above  all,  that  he  had  never  been  to  New  York  to  see 
the  fashions.  Neither  had  I ! In  a few  weeks,  I had 
the  entire  business  of  the  town,  to  the  great  discomfit- 
ure of  the  other  barber. 

“At  this  time,  money  matters  in  the  Western  States 
were  in  a sad  condition.  Any  person  who  could  raise 
a small  amount  of  money  was  pefmitted  to  establish  a 
bank,  and  allowed  to  issue  notes  for  four  times  the 
sum  raised.  This  being  the  case,  many  persons  bor- 
rowed money  merely  long  enough  to  exhibit  to  the 
Bank  Inspectors,  then  the  borrowed  money  was  return- 
ed, and  the  bank  left  without  a dollar  in  its  vaults,  if, 
indeed,  it  had  a vault  about  its  premises.  The  result 
was,  that  banks  were  started  all  over  the  Western 
States,  and  the  country  flooded  with  worthless  paper. 
These  were  known  as  ‘ wild-cat  banks.’  Silver  coin 
being  very  scarce,  and  the  banks  not  being  allowed  to 
issue  notes  for  a smaller  amount  than  one  dollar,  seve- 


48 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


ral  persons  put  out  notes  from  six  to  seventy-five  cents 
in  value.  These  were  called  ‘ shin-plasters.’  The 
‘ shin-plaster  ’ was  in  the  shape  of  a promissory  note, 
made  payable  on  demand.  I have  often  seen  persons 
with  large  rolls  of  these  bills,  the  whole  not  amounting 
to  more  than  five  dollars.  Some  weeks  after  I had 
commenced  business  on  my  ‘own  hook,’  I was  one 
evening  very  much  crowded  with  visitors,  and  while 
they  were  talking  over  the  events  of  the  day,  one  of 
them  said  to  me,  — ‘ Emperor,  you  seem  to  be  doing  a 
thriving  business : you  should  do  as  other  men  of  busi- 
ness, issue  your  shin-plasters.’  This,  of  course,  as  it 
was  intended,  created  a laugh ; but  with  me  it  was  no 
laughing  matter,  for  from  that  moment,  I began  to 
think  seriously  of  becoming  -a  banker.  I. accordingly 
went,  a few  days  after,  to  a printer,  and  he,  wishing  to 
get  a job  of  printing,  urged  me  to  put  out  my  notes, 
and  showed  me  some  specimens  of  engravings  that  he 
had  just  received  from  Detroit.  My  head  being 
already  filled  with  tike  idea  of  a bank,  I needed  but 
little  persuasion  to  set  the  thing  finally  afloat.  Before 
I left  the  printer,  my  notes  were  partly  in  type,  and  I 
studying  how  I should  keep  the  public  from  counter- 
feiting them. 

“The  next  day,  my  ‘shin-plasters’  were  handed  to 
me,  the  whole  amount  being  tv)enty  dollars^  and,  after 
being  duly  signed,  were  ready  for  circulation.  At 
first,  my  notes  did  not  take  well ; they  were  too  new, 
and  viewed  with  a suspicious  eye.  But,  through  the 
assistance  of  my  customers,  and  a good  deal  of  exertion 
on  my  own  part,  my  bills  were  soon  in  circulation ; 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


49 


and  nearly  all  the  money  received  in  return  for  them 
was  spent  in  fitting  up  and  decorating  my  shop.  Few 
bankers  get  through  this  world  without  their  difficul- 
ties, and  I was  not  to  he  an  exception.  A short  time 
after  my  money  had  been  out,  a party  of  young  men, 
either  wishing  to  pull  down  my  vanity,  or  to  try  the 
soundness  of  my  bank,  determined  to  give  it  ‘ a run.’ 
After  collecting  together  a number  of  my  hills,  they 
came,  one  at  a time,  to  demand  other  money  for  them ; 
and  I,  not  being  aware  of  what  was  going  on,  was 
taken  by  surprise.  As  I was  sitting  at  my  table, 
strapping  some  new  razors  I had  just  got  with  the 
avails  of  my  ‘ shin-plasters,’  one  of  the  men  entered 
and  said,  ‘ Emperor,  you  will  oblige  me  if  you  will 
give  me  some  other  money  for  these  notes  of  yours.’ 
I immediately  cashed  the  notes  with  some  of  the  most 
worthless  of  the  ‘ wild-cat  ’ money  that  I had  on  hand, 
but  which  was  a lawful  tender.  The  young  man  had 
scarcely  left  when  a second  appeared,  with  a similar 
amount,  and  demanded  payment.  These  were  paid, 
and  soon  a third  came,  with  his  roll  of  notes.  I paid 
these  with  an  air  of  triumph,  though  I had  hut  half  a 
dollar  left.  I now  began  to  think  seriously  what  I 
should  do,  or  how  I should  act,  provided  another  de- 
mand should  he  made.  While  I was  thus  engaged  in 
thought,  I saw  a fourth  man  crossing  the  street,  with  a 
handful  of  notes,  evidently  my  ‘shin-plasters.’  I in- 
stantaneously shut  the  door,  and,  looking  out  of  the 
window,  said,  ‘ I have  closed  business  for  the  day ; come 
to-morrow  and  I will  see  you.’  On  looking  across  the 
street,  I saw  my  rival  standing  in  his  shop  door,  grin- 


50 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


ning  and  clapping  his  hands  at  my  apparent  downfall. 
I was  completely  ‘done  Brown''  for  the  day.  How- 
ever, I was  not  to  be  ‘used  up’  in  this  way;  so  I 
escaped  by  the  back  door,  and  went  in  search  of  my 
friend  who  had  first  suggested  to  me  the  idea  of  issu- 
ing notes.  I found  him,  and  told  him  of  the  difficulty 
I was  in,  and  wished  him  to  point  out  the  way  by  which 
I could  extricate  myself  He  laughed  heartily,  and 
then  said,  ‘ You  must  do  as  all  hankers  do  in  this  part 
of  the  country.’  I inquired  how  they  did,  and  he  said, 
‘When  your  notes  are  brought  to  you,  you  must  re- 
deem them,  and  then  send  them  out  and  get  other 
money  for  them,  and  with  the  latter  you  can  keep 
cashing  your  own  shin-plasters.’  This  was  a new  idea 
to  me.  I immediately  commenced  putting  in  circula- 
tion the  notes  which  I had  just  redeemed,  and  my 
efforts  were  crowned  with  so  much  success,  that  before 
I slept  that  night,  my  ‘ shin-plasters  ’ were  again  in 
circulation,  and  my  bank  once  more  on  a sound  basis.” 
The  next  spring,  Mr.  Brown  again  found  employ- 
ment on  the  lake,  and  from  this  time  until  the  winter 
of  1843,  he  held  a lucrative  situation  on  one  of  the  lake 
steamboats.  Having  felt  the  iron  of  slavery  in  his  own 
soul,  the  self-emancipated  slave  was  always  trying  to 
help  his  fellow-fugitives,  many  of  whom  passed  over 
Lake  Erie,  while  escaping  from  the  Southern  States  to 
Canada.  In  one  year  alone,  he  assisted  sixty  fugitives 
in  crossing  to  the  British  Queen’s  dominions.  Many 
of  these  escapes  were  attended  with  much  interest.  On 
one  occasion,  a fugitive  had  been  hid  away  in  the  house 
of  a noted  Abolitionist  in  Cleveland  for  ten  days,  while 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


51 


his  master  was  in  town,  and  watching  every  steamboat, 
and  vessel  that  left  the  port.  Several  olEcers  were  also 
on  the  watch,  guarding  the  house  of  the  Abolitionist 
every  night.  The  slave  was  a young  and  valuable 
man,  of  twenty-two  years  of  age,  and  very  black.  The 
friends  of  the  slave  had  almost  despaired  of  getting 
him  away  from  his  hiding-place,  when  Mr.  Brown  was 
called  in,  and  consulted  as  to  the  best  course  to  be 
taken.  He  at  once  inquired  if  a painter  could  be  found 
who  would  paint  the  fugitive  white.  In  an  hour,  by 
Mr.  Brown’s  directions,  the  black  man  was  as  white, 
and  with  as  rosy  cheeks,  as  any  of  the  Anglo-Saxon 
race,  and  disguised  in  the  dress  of  a woman,  with  a 
thick  veil  over  her  face.  As  the  steamer’s  bell  was 
tolling  for  the  passengers  to  come  on  board,  a tall  lady, 
dressed  in  deep  mourning,  and  leaning  on  the  arm  of  a 
gentleman  of  more  than  ordinary  height,  was  seen  en- 
tering the  ladies’  cabin  of  the  steamer  “ North  Ameri- 
ca,” who  took  her  place  with  the  other  ladies.  Soon 
the  steamer  left  the  wharf,  and  the  slave-catcher  and 
his  olEcers,  who  had  been  watching  the  boat  since  her 
arrival,  went  away,  satisfied  that  their  slave  had  not 
escaped  by  the  “North  America,”  and  returned  to 
guard  the  house  of  the  Abolitionist.  After  the  boat 
had  got  out  of  port  and  fairly  on  her  way  to  Buffalo, 
Mr.  Brown  showed  the  tall  lady  to  her  state-room. 
The  next  morning,  the  fugitive  dressed  in  his  planta- 
tion suit,  snapped  his  fingers  at  the  stars  and  stripes., 
bade  his  native  land  farewell,  crossed  the  Niagara 
river,  and  took  up  his  abode  on  the  soil  of  Canada, 
where  the  American  bondman  is  free. 


52 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

“ The  -weakest  and  the  poorest  may 
This  simple  pittance  give, 

I And  bid  delight  to  withered  hearts 

Return  again  and  live.” 

AVm.  Wells  Brown  early  became  a reader  of  the 
Liberator,  Emancipator , Human  Rights,  and  other 
papers,  published  during  the  first  stages  of  the  Anti- 
Slavery  discussion,  and  consequently  took  great  interest 
in  the  movement  intended  to  abolish  the  cruel  system 
under  which  his  own  relations,  in  common  with  others 
that  were  near  and  dear  to  him,  were  held.  As  one  of 
the  pioneers  in  the  Temperance  cause,  among  the  col- 
ored people  in  Bu-ffalo,  he  did  good  service.  He  re- 
garded temperance  and  education  as  the  means  best 
calculated  to  elevate  the,  free  people  of  color,  and  to 
place  them  in  a position  where  they  could  give  a 
practical  refutation  to  the  common  belief,  that  the 
negro  cannot  attain  to  the  high  stand  of  the  Anglo- 
Saxon.  But  Buffalo  being  a place  through  which 
many  fugitives  passed  while  on  their  way  to  Canada, 
Mr.  Brown  spent  much  time  in  assisting  those  who 
sought  his  aid.  His  house  might  literally  have  been 
called  the  “ fugitive’s  house.”  As  Niagara  Falls  were 
only  twenty  miles  from  Buffalo,  slaveholders  not  un- 
frequently  passed  through  the  latter  place  attended  by 
one  or  more  slave  servants.  Mr.  Brown  was  always  on 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


53 


the  look-out  for  such,  to  inform  them  that  they  were 
free  by  the  laws  of  New  York,  and  to  give  them 
necessary  aid.  The  case  of  every  colored  servant  who 
was  seen  accompanying  a white  person  was  strictly 
inquired  into. 

Mr.  Brown’s  residence  also  became  the  home  of  Anti- 
Slavery  agents,  and  lecturers  on  all  reformatory  move- 
ments. After  investigating  every  phase  of  Anti- Sla- 
very, he  became  satisfied  that  the  course  pursued  by 
Wm.  Lloyd  Garrison  and  his  followers  was  the  best 
calculated  to  free  the  slave  from  his  chains,  and  he  has 
»ver  since  been  an  advocate  of  the  doctrines  put  forth 
by  the  great  pioneer  of  the  Abolition  cause. 


54 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


CHAPTER  XV. 


“ Where’er  a human  voice  is  heard 
In  witness  for  the  true  and  right, 

Where’er  a human  heart  is  stirred 
To  mingle  in  Faith’s  glorious  fight, 

That  voice  revere,  that  heart  sustain. 

It  shall  not  be  to  thee  in  vain  ! ” 

Having  some  three  months  leisure  time  during  tbe 
■winter,  Mr.  Brown  began,  in  the  autumn  of  1843,  to 
speak  on  the  subject  of  American  Slavery.  Not  satis- 
fied with  merely  gaining  his  own  freedom,  he  felt  it  to 
be  his  duty  to  work  for  others ; and,  in  the  language  of 
the  poet,  he  would  ask  himself — 

“ Is  true  freedom  but  to  break 
Fetters  for  our  own  dear  sake. 

And,  with  leather  hearts,  forget. 

That  we  owe  mankind  a debt  ? 

No  ! true  freedom  is  to  share 
All  the  chains  our  brothers  wear. 

And  with  heart  and  hand  to  be 
Earnest  to  make  others  free.” 


With  this  feeling,  he  went  forth  to  battle  against 
slavery  at  the  South,  and  its  offspring,  prejudice  against 
colored  people,  at  the  North.  Buffalo  and  its  vicinity 
was  at  that  time  one  of  the  worst  places  in  the  State, 
with  the  exception  of  New  York  city,  for  colored  per- 
sons. Hatred  to  the  blacks  had  closed  all  the  schools 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


55 


against  colored  children,  and  the  negro-pew  was  the 
only  place  in  the  church  where  the  despised  race  were 
permitted  to  have  a seat.  Mr.  Brown  not  only  com- 
batted this  unnatural  prejudice  in  Buffalo,  but  also  in 
the  surrounding  towns.  On  one  occasion,  he  visited 
the  town  of  Attica,  to  give  a lecture  on  slavery,  and 
so  great  was  the  hatred  to  the  negro,  that  after  the 
meeting  was  over,  he  looked  in  vain  for  a place  to 
lodge  for  the  night.  After  visiting  every  tavern  in  the 
village,  he  returned  to  the  vestry  of  the  church,  and, 
entering  it,  remained  until  morning.  The  night  was  a 
bitter  cold  one,  and  Mr.  Brown  walked  the  aisle  from 
eleven  at  night  till  six  the  next  morning.  One  year 
after,  he  lectured  in  the  same  place,  and  the  little  seed 
left  there,  twelve  months  before,  had  taken  root,  and 
Mr.  Brown  found  more  than  one  person  willing  to  take 
him  in. 

If  there  is  one  thing  at  the  North  which  seems  more 
cruel  and  hateful  than  another,  connected  with  Ameri- 
can slavery,  it  is  the  way  in  which  colored  persons  are 
treated  by  the  whites.  The  withering  influence  which 
this  hatred  exerts  against  the  elevation  of  the  free  col- 
ored people,  can  scarcely  be  imagined.  Wherever  the 
black  man  makes  his  appearance  in  the  United  States, 
he  meets  this  hatred.  In  some  sections  of  the  country 
it  is  worse  than  in  others.  As  you  advance  nearer  to 
the  slave  States,  you  feel  this  prejudice  the  more. 
Twenty  years  ago,  if  colored  persons  travelled  by 
steamboat,  they  were  put  on  the  deck ; if  by  coach,  on 
the  outside;  if  by  railway,  in  the  Jim  Crow  car. 
Even  the  respectable  eating  saloons  have  been  closed 


56 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


against  colored  persons.  In  New  York  and  Philadel- 
phia, the  despised  race  are  still  excluded  from  most 
places  of  refreshment.  To  the  eveidasting  shame  of 
the  Church,  she  still  holds  on  to  this  unchristian  prac- 
tice of  separating  persons  on  account  of  their  complex- 
ion. In  the  refined  city  of  Boston,  there  was  a church, 
as  late  as  1847,  deeded  its  pews  upon  condition  that  no 
colored  person  should  ever  be  permitted  to  enter  them ! 
Most  of  these  churches  have  a place  set  off  in  the  gal- 
lery, where  the  negro  naay  go  if  he  pleases.  A New 
York  D.D.,  while  on  a visit  to  England,  some  years 
since,  was  charged  by  a London  divine  with  putting  his 
colored  members  in  the  furthest  part  of  the  gallery. 
The  American  clergyman,  with  a long  face  and  upturn- 
ed eyes,  exclaimed,  ‘"Ah!  my  dear  brother,  I think 
more  of  my  colored  members  than  I do  of  the  whites, 
and  therefore  I place  them  in  the  top  of  the  house,  so 
as  to  get  them  nearer  to  heaven.”  Charles  Lenox 
Remond,  during  the  many  years  that  he  has  labored  in 
the  Anti-Slavery  cause,  has,  in  all  probability,  experi- 
enced greater  insults  and  more  hardships  than  any  other 
person  of  color.  To  hear  him  relate  what  he  has 
undergone,  while  travelling  to  and  from  the  places  of 
his  meetings,  makes  one’s  blood  chill. 

This  pretended  fastidiousness  on  the  part  of  the 
whites  has  produced  some  of  the  most  ridiculous  scenes. 
William  Wells  Brown,  while  travelling  through 
Ohio  in  1844,  went  from  Sandusky  to  Republic,  on  the 
Mad  River  and  Lake  Erie  Railroad.  On  arriving  at 
Sandusky,  he  learned  that  colored  people  were  not 
allowed  to  take  seats  in  the  cars  with  whites,  and  that. 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


57 


as  there  Mas  no  Jim  Crow  car  on  that  road,  blacks 
were  generally  made  to  ride  in  the  baggage-car.  Mr. 
Brown,  however,  went  into  one  of  the  best  passenger 
cars,  seated  himself,  crossed  his  legs,  and  looked  as 
unconcerned  as  if  the  car  had  been  made  for  his  sole 
use.  At  length,  one  of  the  railway  officials  entered  the 
car,  and  asked  him  what  he  was  doing  there.  “I  am 
going  to  Kepublic,”  said  Mr.  Brown.  “You  can’t 
ride  here,”  said  the  conductor.  “ Yes  I can,”  returned 
the  colored  man.  “I7o  you  can’t,”  rejoined  the  rail- 
way man.  “Why?”  inquired  Mr.  Brown.  “Be- 
cause we  don ’t  allow  niggers  to  ride  with  white  jieo- 
ple,”  replied  the  conductor.  “Well,  I shall  remain 
here,”  said  Mr.  Brown.  “You  will  see,  pretty  soon, 
whether  you  will  or  not,”  retorted  the  railway  man, 
as  he  turned  to  leave  the  car.  By  this  time,  the  pas- 
sengers were  filling  up  the  seats,  and  every  thing  being 
made  ready  to  start.  After  an  absence  of  a few  min- 
utes, the  conductor  again  entered  the  car,  accompanied 
by  two  stout  men,  and  took  Mr.  Brown  by  the  collar 
and  pulled  him  out.  Pressing  business  demanded 
that  Mr.  Brown  should  go,  and  by  that  train;  he 
therefore  got  into  the  freight  car,  just  as  the  train  was 
moving  off.  Seating  himself  on  a flour  barrel,  he 
took  from  his  pocket  the  last  number  of  the  Liberator^ 
and  began  reading  it.  On  went  the  train,  making  its 
usual  stops,  until  within  four  or  five  miles  of  Re- 
public, when  the  conductor,  (who,  by-the-by,  was  the 
same  man  who  had  moved  Mr.  Brown  from  the  passen- 
ger car)  demanded  his  ticket.  “I  have  no  ticket,” 
returned  he.  “ Then  I will  take  your  fare,”  said  the 


58 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


conductor.  “ How  much  is  it  7 ” inquired  Mr.  Brown. 
“ One  dollar  and  a quarter,”  was  the  answer.  “ How 
much  do  you  charge  those  who  ride  in  the  passenger 
cars?”  inquired  the  colored  man.  “The  same,”  said 
the  conductor.  “Do  you  suppose  that  I will  pay  the 
same  price  for  riding  up  here  in  the  freight  car,  that 
those  do  who  are  in  the  passenger  car?”  asked  Mr. 
Brown.  “ Certainly,”  replied  the  conductor.  “Well, 
you  are  very  much  mistaken,  if  you  think  any  such 
thing,”  said  the  passenger.  “ Come,  black  man,  out 
with  your  money,  and  none  of  your  nonsense  with 
me,”  said  the  conductor.  “I  won’t  pay  you  the 
price  you  demand,  and  that’s  the  end  of  it,”  said  Mr. 
Brown.  “ Don ’t  you  intend  paying  your  fare?  ” in- 
quired the  conductor.  “Yes,”  replied  the  colored 
man ; “ but  I won  ’t  pay  you  a dollar  and  a quarter.” 
“ What  do  you  intend  to  pay,  then?”  demanded  the 
official.  “ I will  pay  what ’s  right,  but  I don’t  intend 
to  give  you  all  that  sum.”  “Well,  then,”  said  the 
conductor,  “as  you  have  had  to  ride  in  the  freight  car, 
give  me  one  dollar  and  you  may  go.”  “I  won’t  do 
any  such  thing,”  returned  Mr.  Brown.  “Why  won’t 
you  ? ” inquired  the  railway  man.  “ If  I had  come  in 
the  passenger  car,  I would  have  paid  as  much  as  others 
do;  but  I won ’t  ride  up  here  on  a flour  barrel,  and  pay 
you  a dollar.”  “You  think  yourself  as  good  as  white 
people,  I suppose?”  said  the  conductor;  and  his  eyes 
flashed  as  if  he  meant  what  he  said.  “Well,  being 
you  seem  to  feel  so  bad  because  you  had  to  ride  in  the 
freight  car,  give  me  seventy-five  cents,- and  I ’ll  say  no 
more  about  it,”  continued  he.  “No,  I won’t.  If  I 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


59 


had  been  permitted  to  ride  with  the  other  passengers,  I 
would  pay  what  you  first  demanded;  but  I won  ’t  pay 
seventy-five  cents  for  riding  up  here,  astride  a flour 
barrel,  in  the  hot  sun.”  “Don’t  you  intend  paying 
any  thing  at  all  7 ” asked  the  conductor.  “Yes,  I will 
pay  what  is  right.”  “ Give  me  half  a dollar,  and  I 
will  say  no  more  about  it.”  “ No,  I won ’t,”  returned 
the  other;  “I  shall  not  pay  fifty  cents  for  riding  in  a 
freight  car.”  “ What  will  you  pay,  then  7 ” demanded 
the  conductor.  “ What  do  you  charge  per  hundred  on 
this  road7”  asked  Mr.  Brown.  “Twenty-five  cents,” 
answered  the  conductor.  “Then  I will  pay  you  thirty- 
seven  and  a half  cents,”  said  the  passenger,  “for  I 
weigh  just  one  hundred  and  fifty  pounds.”  “ Do  you 
expect  to  get  off  by  paying  that  trifling  sum 7”  “I 
have  come  as  freight,  and  I will  pay  for  freight,  and 
nothing  more,”  said  Mr.  Brown.  The  conductor  took 
the  thirty-seven  and  a half  cents,  declaring,  as  he  left 
the  car,  that  that  was  the  most  impudent  negro  that  ever 
travelled  on  that  road. 


60 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


“For  ’tis  tlie  mind  that  makes  the  body  rich, 

And  as  the  sun  breaks  through  the  darkest  clouds, 

So  honor  peereth  in  the  meanest  habit.” 

The  subject  of  our  memoir  no  sooner  felt  bimself, 
safe  from  the  pursuit  of  the  Southern  bloodhounds, 
than  he  began  to  seek  for  that  which  the  system  of  sla- 
very had  denied  him,  while  one  of  its  victims.  During 
the  first  five  years  of  his  freedom,  his  chief  companion 
was  a book, — either  an  arithmetic,  a spelling-book,  a 
grammar,  or  a history.  Though  he  never  went  through 
any  systematic  course  of  study,  he  nevertheless  has 
mastered  more,  in  useful  education,  than  many  who 
have  had  better  privileges. 

After  lecturing  in  the  Anti- Slavery  cause  for  more 
than  five  years,  Mr.  Brown  was  invited  to  visit  Great 
Britain.  He  at  first  declined ; but  being  urged  by 
many  friends  of  the  slave  in  the  Old  World,  he  at  last, 
in  the  summer  of  1849,  resolved  to  go.  As  soon  as  it 
was  understood  that  the  fugitive  slave  was  going  abroad, 
the  American  Peace  Society  elected  him  as  a delegate 
to  represent  them  at  the  Peace  Congress  at  Paris. 
Without  any  solicitation,  the  Executive  Committee  of 
the  American  Anti-Slavery  Society  strongly  recom- 
mended Mr.  Brown  to  the  friends  of  freedom  in  Great 
Britain.  The  President  of  the  above  Society  gave  him 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


61 


private  letters  to  some  of  the  leading  men  and  -women 
in  Europe.  In  addition  to  these,  the  colored  citizens 
of  Boston  held  a meeting  the  evening  previous  to  his 
departure,  and  gave  Mr.  Brown  a public  farewell^  and 
passed  resolutions  commending  him  to  the  confidence 
and  hospitality  of  all  lovers  of  liberty  in  the  mother- 
land. 

Such  were  the  auspices  under  which  this  self-edu- 
cated man  sailed  for  England  on  the  18th  of  July, 
1849.  Without  being  a salaried  agent,  or  any  prom- 
ise of  remuneration  from  persons  either  in  Europe  or 
America,  the  subject  of  our  narrative  arrived  at  Liver- 
pool, after  a passage  of  a few  hours  less  than  ten  days. 


62 


BIOGRAPHY  OP 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


“ Erin,  my  country  ! o’er  the  swelling  waye, 

Join  in  the  cry,  ask  freedom  for  the  slave  ! ” 

“Natives  of  a land  of  glory. 

Daughters  of  the  good  and  brave. 

Hear  the  injured  negro’s  story. 

Hear,  and  help  the  kneeling  slave  ! ” 

From  Liverpool,  Mr.  Brown  went  to  Dublin,  where 
he  was  warmly  greeted  by  the  Webbs,  Haughtons, 
Allens,  and  others  of  the  slave’s  friends  in  Ireland. 
Her  Brittanic  Majesty  visiting  her  Irish  subjects  at 
that  time,  the  fugitive  had  an  opportunity  of  witnessing 
Royalty  in  all  its  magnificence  and  regal  splendor. 
The  land  of  Burke,  Sheridan  and  O’Connell  would  not 
permit  the  American  to  leave  without  giving  him  a 
public  welcome.  A large  and  enthusiastic  meeting 
held  in  the  Rotunda,  and  presided  over  by  James 
Haugiiton,  Esq.,  gave  Mr.  Brown  the  first  reception 
which  he  had  in  the  Old  World. 

After  a sojourn  of  twenty  days  in  the  Emerald  Isle, 
the  fugitive  started  for  the  Peace  Congress  which  was 
to  assemble  at  Paris.  The  Peace  Congress,  and  espe- 
cially the  French  who  were  in  attendance  at  the  great 
meeting,  most  of  whom  had  never  seen  a colored  per- 
son, were  somewhat  taken  by  surprise  on  the  last  day, 
when  Mr.  Brown  made  a speech.  “His  reception,” 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


63 


said  La  Presse,  “was  most  flattering.  He  admirably 
sustained  his  reputation  as  a public  speaker.  His 
address  produced  a profound  sensation.  At  its  con- 
clusion, the  speaker  was  warmly  greeted  by  Victor 
Hugo,  President  of  the  Congress,  Richard  Cobden, 
Esq.,  and  other  distinguished  men  on  the  platform. 
At  the  soiiAe  given  by  M.  de  Tocqueville,  the  Minister 
for  Foreign  Affairs,  the  American  slave  was  received 
with  marked  attention.”  More  than  thirty  of  the  Eng- 
lish delegates  at  the  Congress  gave  Mr.  Brown  invita- 
tions to  visit  their  towns  on  his  return  to  England, 
and  lecture  on  American  Slavery. 

Having  spent  a fortnight  in  Paris  and  vicinity, 
viewing  the  sights,  he  returned  to  London.  George 
Thompson,  Esq.,  was  among  the  first  to  meet  the  fugi- 
tive on  his  arrival  at  the  English  metropolis.  A few 
days  after,  a very  large  meeting,  held  in  the  spa- 
cious Music  Hall,  Bedford  Square,  and  presided  over 
by  Sir  Francis  Knowles,  Bart.,  welcomed  Mr.  Brown 
to  England.  Many  of  Britain’s  distinguished  public 
speakers  spoke  on  the  occasion.  George  Thompson 
made  one  of  his  most  brilliant  efibrts. 

This  flattering  reception  gained  for  the  fugitive 
pressing  invitations  from  nearly  all  parts  of  the  United 
Kingdom.  At  the  city  of  Worcester,  His  Honor  the 
Mayor  presided  over  the  meeting,  and  introduced  Mr. 
Brown  as  “the  honorable  gentleman  from  America.” 
In  the  city  of  Norwich,  the  meeting  was  held  in  St. 
Andrew’s  Hall,  one  of  the  oldest  and  most  venerated 
buildings  in  the  Kingdom,  and  the  Chairman  on  the  oc- 
casion was  John  Henry  Gurney,  Esq.,  the  distinguished 


64 


BIOGRAPHY  OP 


banker,  and  son  of  the  late  Joseph  John  Gurney. 
At  Newcastle-on-Tyne,  two  meetings  were  held.  His 
Honor  the  Mayor  presided  over  one,  and  Sir  John 
Fife  over  the  other.  Here  the  friends  of  freedom  gave 
Mr.  Brown  a public  soiree,  at  which  eight  hundred  sat 
down  to  tea.  After  tea  was  over,  the  Mayor  arose, 
and,  on  behalf  of  the  meeting,  presented  to  Mr.  Brown 
a purse  containing  twenty  sovereigns,  accompanied  with 
the  following  Address:  — “This  purse,  containing  twen- 
ty sovereigns,  is  presented  to  Wm.  Wells  Brown  by 
the  following  ladies  and  some  other  friends  of  the  slave 
in  Newcastle,  as  a token  of  their  high  esteem  for  his 
character  and  admiration  of  his  zeal  in  advocating  the 
claims  of  three  millions  of  his  brethren  and  sisters 
in  bonds  in  the  Southern  States  of  America.  They 
also  express  their  sincere  wish  that  his  life  may  be 
long  spared  to  pursue  his  valuable  labors  — that  suc- 
cess may  soon  crown  his  efforts  and  those  of  his  fellow- 
Abolitionists  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic,  and  his 
heart  be  gladdened  by  the  arrival  of  the  happy  period 
when  the  last  shackle  shall  be  broken  which  binds  the 
limbs  of  the  last  slave.'” 

At  Glasgow,  four  thousand  persons  attended  the 
meeting  at  the  City  Hall,  which  was  presided  over  by 
Alexander  Hastie,  Esq.,  M.  P.  Meetings  given  to  wel- 
come Mr.  Brown  were  also  held  at  Edinburgh,  Perth, 
Dundee,  Aberdeen,  and  nearly  every  city  or  town  in  the 
Kingdom.  At  Sheffield,  James  Montgomery,  the  poet, 
attended  the  meeting,  and  invited  the  fugitive  to  visit 
him  at  his  residence.  The  following  day,  Mr.  Brown 
went,  by  invitation,  to  visit  the  silver  electro-plate 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


65 


manuflictorj  of  Messrs.  Broadhead  and  Atkins.  While 
going  through  the  premises,  a subscription  was  set  on 
foot  bj  the  workmen,  and  on  the  fugitive’s  entering  the 
counting-room,  the  purse  was  presented  to  him  by  the 
designer,  who  said  that  the  donors  gave  it  as  a token  of 
their  esteem  for  Mr.  Brown. 

At  Bolton,  a splendid  soirde  was  given  to  him,  and 
the  following  Address  presented  : — 

“Dear  Friend  and  Brother,  — We  cannot  per- 
mit you  to  depart  from  among  us  without  giving  expres- 
sion to  the  feelings  which  we  entertain  towards  yourself 
personally,  and  to  the  sympathy  which  you  have  awa- 
kened in  our  breasts  for  the  three  millions  of  our 
sisters  and  brothers  who  still  suffer  and  groan  in  the 
prison-house  of  American  bondage.  You  came  among 
us  an  entire  stranger ; we  received  you  for  the  sake  of 
your  mission  ; and  having  heard  the  story  of  your  per- 
sonal wrongs,  and  gazed  with  horror  on  the  atrocities 
of  slavery,  as  seen  through  the  medium  of  your  touch- 
ing descriptions,  we  are  resolved  henceforward,  in  reli- 
ance on  divine  assistance,  to  render  what  aid  we  can  to 
the  cause  which  you  have  so  eloquently  pleaded  in  our 
presence.  We  have  no  words  to  express  our  detestation 
of  the  crimes  which,  in  the  name  of  Liberty,  are  com- 
mitted in  the  country  which  gave  you  birth.  Language 
fails  to  tell  our  deep  abhorrence  of  the  impiety  of  those 
who,  in  the  still  more  sacred  name  of  Religion,  rob  im- 
mortal beings,  not  only  of  an  earthly  citizenship,  but 
do  much  to  prevent  them  from  obtaining  a heavenly 
one : and  as  mothers  and  daughters,  we  embrace  this 
opportunity  of  giving  utterance  to  our  utmost  indigna- 


66 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


tion  at  the  cruelties  perpetrated  upon  our  sex  by  a 
people  professedly  acknowledging  the  equality  of  all 
mankind.  Carry  with  you,  on  your  return  to  the  land 
of  your  nativity,  this  our  solemn  protest  against  the 
■wicked  institution  which,  like  a dark  and  baleful  cloud, 
hangs  over  it ; and  ask  the  unfeeling  enslavers,  as  best 
you  can,  to  open  the  prison-doors  to  them  that  are 
bound,  and  let  the  oppressed  go  free.  Allow  us  to 
assure  you,  that  your  brief  sojourn  in  our  towm  has 
been  to  ourselves,  and  to  vast  multitudes,  of  a charac- 
ter long  to  be  remembered ; and  when  you  are  far 
removed  from  us,'and  toiling,  as  we  hope  you  may  long 
be  spared  to  do,  in  this  righteous  enterprise,  it  may  be 
.some  solace  to  your  mind  to  know  that  your  name  is 
cherished  with  affectionate  regard,  and  that  the  blessing 
of  the  Most  High  is  earnestly  supplicated  in  behalf  of 
yourself  and  family,  and  the  cause  to  which  you  have 
consecrated  your  distinguished  talents.”  [Signed  by 
200  ladies.] 

In  the  spring  of  1850,  Mr.  Brown  was  publicly  wel- 
comed at  a large  meeting  held  in  the  Broadmead 
Rooms,  at  Bristol,  and  presided  over  by  the  late  John 
B.  Estlin,  Esq.,  one  of  the  most  liberal-minded  and 
philanthropic  men  of  any  country;  a man  who  never 
appeared  better  satisfied  than  when  doing  good  for 
others,  and  whose  loss  has  been  so  universally  lamented 
by  the  genuine  friends  of  freedom  in  both  hemispheres. 
But  should  we  undertake  to  give  a detailed  account  of 
the  various  meetings  called  to  receive  the  American 
fugitive  slave,  it  would  occupy  more  space  than  we  can 
think  of  giving  in  this  volume. 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


67 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

“ ’Tis  a glorious  tiring  to  send  abroad  a soul  as  free  as  air, 

To  throw  aside  the  shackles  which  sectarian  bondmen  wear.” 

The  following  extract  from  Mr.  Brown’s  “ Sketches 
of  Places  and  People  Abroad,”  will  show  that  all  was 
not  sunshine  with  him  while  in  Europe.  It  was  not 
the  first  time  that  forgetfulness  for  himself,  and  a desire 
to  add  to  the  comfort  of  others,  placed  him  in  an  un- 
pleasant position.  The  incident  related  below  occurred 
during  the  first  three  months  of  the  fugitive’s  sojourn 
in  England : — 

“Having  published  the  narrative  of  my  life  and' 
escape  from  slavery,  and  put  it  into  the  booksellers’ 
hands,  and  seeing  a prospect  of  a fair  sale,  I ventured 
to  take  from  my  purse  the  last  sovereign,  to  make  up  a 
small  sum  to  remit  to  the  United  States,  for  the  sup- 
port of  my  daughters,  who  were  at  school  there.  Be- 
fore doing  this,  however,  I had  made  arrangements  to 
attend  a public  meeting  in  the  city  of  Worcester,  at 
which  the  Mayor  was  to  preside.  Being  informed  by 
the  friends  of  the  slave  there,  that  I would,  in  all 
probability,  sell  a number  of  copies  of  my  book,  and 
being  told  that  Worcester  was  only  ten  miles  from 
London,  I felt  safe  in  parting  with  all  but  a few  shil- 
lings, feeling  sure  that  my  purse  would  soon  be  again 
replenished.  But  you  may  guess  my  surprise  when  I 


68 


BIOGRAPHY  OP 


learned  that  Worcester  was  above  a hundred  miles  from 
London,  and  that  I had  not  retained  money  enough  to 
defray  my  expenses  there.  In  my  haste  and  wish  to 
make  up  ten  pounds  to  send  to  my  children,  I had  for- 
gotten that  the  payment  for  my  lodgings  would  be 
demanded  before  I left  town.  Saturday  morning  came; 
I paid  my  lodging  bill,  and  had  three  shillings  and 
fourpence  left.  Out  of  this  sum  I was  to  get  three 
dinners,  as  I was  only  served  with  breakfast  and  tea  at 
my  lodgings.  Nowhere  in  the  British  Empire  do  the 
people  witness  such  dark  days  as  in  London.  It  was 
on  Monday  morning  in  the  fore  part  of  October,  as  the 
clock  on  St.  Martin’s  church  was  stinking  ten,  that  I 
I left  my  lodgings  and  turned  into  the  Strand.  The 
street  lamps  were  all  burning  and  the  shop  lamps  were 
all  lighted,  as  if  day  had  not  made  its  appearance. 
This  great  thoroughfare,  as  usual  at  this  time  of  the 
day,  was  thronged  with  business  men  going  their  way, 
and  women  sauntering  about  for  pleasure,  or  for  want 
of  something  to  do.  I passed  down  the  Strand  to 
Charing  Cross,  and  looked  in  vain  to  see  the  majestic 
statue  of  Nelson  upon  the  top  of  the  great  shaft.  The 
clock  on  St.  Martin’s  church  struck  eleven,  but  my 
sight  could  not  penetrate  through  the  dark  veil  that 
hung  between  its  face  and  me.  In  fact,  day  had  been 
completely  turned  into  night;  and  the  brilliant  lights 
from  the  shop  windows,  almost  persuaded  me  that 
another  day  had  not  appeared.  A London  fog  cannot 
be  described.  To  be  appreciated,  it  must  be  seen,  or 
rather,  felt,  for  it  is  altogether  impossible  to  be  clear 
and  lucid  on  such  a subject.  It  is  the  only  thing 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


69 


•which  can  give  you  an  idea  of  what  Milton  meant  when 
he  talked  of  darkness  visible.  There  is  a kind  of 
light,  to  be  sure,  but  it  only  serves  as  a medium  for  a 
series  of  optical  illusions,  and  for  all  useful  purposes  of 
vision,  the  deepest  darkness  that  ever  fell  from  the 
heavens  is  infinitely  preferable.  A man  perceives  a 
coach  a dozen  yards  off,  and  a single  stride  brings  him 
under  the  horses’  feet ; he  sees  a gas  light  faintly 
glimmering  (as  he  thinks)  at  a distance,  but  scarcely 
has  he  advanced  a step  or  two  towards  it,  when  he 
becomes  convinced  of  its  actual  station  by  finding  his 
head  rattling  against  the  post;  and  as  for  attempting, 
if  you  once  get  mystified,  to  distinguish  one  street 
from  another,  it  is  ridiculous  to  think  of  such  a thing. 
Turning,  I retraced  my  steps,  and  was  soon  passing 
through  the  massive  gates  of  Temple  Bar,  wending  my 
way  to  the  city,  when  a beggar  boy  at  my  heels  accost- 
ed me  for  a half-penny  to  buy  bread.  I had  scarcely 
served  the  boy,  when  I observed  near  by,  and  standing 
close  to  a lamp-post,  a colored  man,  and  from  his  gen- 
eral appearance,  I was  satisfied  that  he  was  an  Ameri- 
can. He  eyed  me  attentively  as  I passed  him,  and 
seemed  anxious  to  speak.  When  I had  got  some  dis- 
tance from  him,  his  eyes  were  still  upon  me.  Ho 
longer  able  to  resist  the  temptation  to  speak  to  him,  I 
returned,  and,  commencing  conversation  with  him, 
learned  a little  of  his  history,  which  was  as  follows  : — 
He  had,  he  said,  escaped  from  slavery  in  Maryland, 
and  reached  New  York;  but  not  feeling  himself  secure 
there,  he  had,  through  the  kindness  of  the  captain  of 
an  English  ship,  made  his  way  to  Liverpool,  and  not 


70 


BIOGRAPHY  OP 


being  able  to  get  employment  there,  he  had  come  up 
to  London.  Here  he  had  met  with  no  better  success, 
and  having  been  employed  in  the  growing  of  tobacco, 
and  being  unaccustomed  to  any  other  kind  of  work,  he 
could  not  get  labor  in  England.  I told  him  he  had 
better  try  to  get  to  the  West  Indies,  but  he  informed 
me  that  he  had  not  a single  penny,  and  that  he  had  had 
nothing  to  eat  that  day.  By  this  man’s  story  I was 
moved  to  tears,  and,  going  to  a neighboring  shop,  I 
took  from  my  purse  my  last  shilling,  changed  it,  and 
gave  this  poor  fugitive  one  half.  The  poor  man  burst 
into  tears,  and  exclaimed,  ‘ You  are  the  first  friend  I 
have  met  in  London.’  I bade  him  farewell,  and  left 
him  with  a feeling  of  regret  that  I could  not  place  him 
beyond  the  reach  of  want.  I went  on  my  way  to  the 
city,  and  while  going  through  Cheapside,  a streak  of 
light  appeared  in  the  east,  that  reminded  me  that  it 
was  not  night.  In  vain  I wandered  from  street  to 
street,  with  the  hope  that  I might  meet  some  one  who 
would  lend  me  money  enough  to  get  to  Worcester. 
Hungry  and  fatigued,  I was  returning  to  my  lodgings, 
when  the  great  clock  on  St.  Paul’s  Cathedral,  under 
whose  shadow  I was  then  passing,  struck  four.  A 
stroll  through  Fleet  street  and  the  Strand,  and  I was 
again  pacing  my  room. 

“ On  my  return,  I found  a letter  from  Worcester 
had  arrived  during  my  absence,  informing  me  that  a 
party  of  gentlemen  would  meet  me  the  next  day  on 
reaching  the  place,  and  saying,  ‘ Bring  plenty  of 
books,  as  you  will  doubtless  sell  a large  number.’ 
The  last  sixpence  had  been  spent  for  postage  stamps. 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


71 


in  order  to  send  off  some  letters  to  other  places ; and  I 
could  not  even  stamp  a letter  in  answer  to  the  last  one 
from  Worcester.  The  only  vestige  of  money  about  me 
was  a smooth  birthing,  that  a little  girl  had  given  me 
at  a meeting  in  Croyden,  saying,  ‘ This  is  for  the 
slaves.’  I was  three  thousand  miles  from  home,  ivith 
but  a single  farthing  in  my  pocket ! Where  on  earth 
could  a man  be  more  destitute  for  the  want  of  money 
than  in  the  Great  Metropolis?  The  cold  hills  of  the 
Arctic  regions  have  not  a more  inhospitable  appearance 
than  London  to  the  stranger  with  an  empty  pocket.  But 
whilst  I felt  depressed  at  being  in  such  a sad  condition, 
I was  conscious  that  I had  done  right  in  remitting 
the  last  ten  pounds  to  America,  for  the  support  of  those 
whom  God  had  committed  to  my  care.  I had  no  friend 
in  London  to  -whom  I could  apply  for  aid.  My  friend 

Mr.  T — was  out  of  town,  and  I did  not  know  his 

address.  The  dark  day  was  rapidly  passing  away;  the 
clock  in  the  hall  had  struck  six;  I had  given  up  all 
hopes  of  reaching  Worcester  the  next  day,  and  had 
just  rung  the  bell  for  the  servant  to  bring  me  some  tea, 
when  a gentle  tap  at  the  door  was  heard;  the  servant 
entered,  and  informed  me  that  a gentleman  below  wish- 
ed to  see  me.  I bade  her  fetch  a light,  and  ask  him 
up.  The  stranger  was  my  young  friend,  Frederick 
Stephenson,  son  of  the  excellent  minister  of  the  Bor- 
ough-Road Chapel.  I lectured  in  this  chapel  a few 
days  previous,  and  this  young  gentleman,  with  more 
than  ordinary  zeal  and  enthusiasm  for  the  cause  of 
bleeding  humanity  and  respect  for  me,  had  gone  among 
his  father’s  congregation  and  sold  a number  of  copies 


72 


BIOGRAPHY  OP 


of  my  book,  and  had  come  to  bring  me  the  money. 
I wiped  the  silent  tears  from  my  eyes,  as  the  young 
man  placed  the  thirteen  half-crowns  in  my  hand.  I 
did  not  let  him  know  under  what  obligation  I was  to 
him  for  this  disinterested  act  of  kindness.  Like  the 
man  who  called  for  bread  and  cheese,  when  feeling  in 
his  pocket  for  the  last  threepence  with  which  to  pay 
for  it,  found  a sovereign  that  he  was  not  aware  he  pos- 
sessed, countermanded  the  order  for  lunch,  and  told 
them  to  bring  him  the  best  dinner  they  could  get,  so 
I told  the  servant,  when  she  brought  up  tea,  that  I had 
changed  my  mind,  and  should  go  out  to  dine.  With 
the  means  in  my  pocket  of  reaching  Worcester  the 
next  day,  I sat  down  to  dinner  at  the  Adelphi  -with  a 
good  cut  of  roast  beef  before  me,  and  felt  myself  once 
more  at  home.  Thus  ended  a dark  day  in  London.” 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


73 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


“ Take  the  spade  of  perseverance, 
Dig  the  field  of  progress  wide, 
Every  bar  to  true  instruction 
Carry  out,  and  cast  aside.” 


It  was  the  intention  of  Mr.  Brown,  when  he  went  to 
England,  not  to  remain  there  more  than  one  year  at  the 
furthest.  But  he  was,  by  the  laws  of  the  United 
States,  the  property  of  another,  and  the  passage  of  the 
Fugitive  Slave  Bill  laid  him  liable  to  be  arrested 
whenever  he  should  return  to  his  native  land.  Wen- 
dell Phillips,  Esq.,  advised  the  fugitive,  for  his  own 
safety,  not  to  return.  Mr.  Brown  therefore  resolved 
to  remove  his  two  daughters  to  England,  so  that  he 
could  see  to  their  education.  In  July,  1851,  the  girls 
arrived  in  Liverpool,  in  the  Royal  British  Mail  Steamer 
“America,”  under  the  charge  of  the  Rev.  Charles 
Spear,  the  distinguished  and  philanthropic  friend  of 
the  prisoner.  Even  here,  the  fugitive  was  not  without 
persecution  in  the  person  of  his  children,  for  Mr. 
Lewis,  the  Company’s  agent  in  Boston,  would  not  r*e- 
ceive  them  unless  they  were  entered  on  the  passenger’s 
list  as  servants.  The  only  reason  assigned  for  this 
was  their  being  colored!  Thus  the  vile  institution 
which  had  driven  Mr.  Brown  into  exile,  followed  his 
children  on  board  a steamer  over  which  the  British  flag 
waved. 


74 


BIOGRAPHY  OP 


Soon  after  the  arrival  of  his  daughters,  Mr.  Brown 
placed  them  in  one  of  the  best  seminaries  in  France, 
where  they  encountered  no  difficulty  on  account  of  their 
complexion.  The  entire  absence  of  prejudice  against 
color  in  Europe  is  one  of  the  clearest  proofs  that  the 
hatred  here  to  the  colored  person  is  solely  owing  to  the 
overpowering  influence  of  slavery.  Mr.  Brown’s  daugh- 
ters, after  remaining  in  France  one  year,  were  removed 
to  the  Home  and  Colonial  School  in  London,  the  finest 
female  educational  college  in  Great  Britain.  Here,  as 
well  as  in  the  French  school,  the  girls  saw  nothing  to 
indicate  that  the  slightest  feeling  of  ill-will  existed  on 
the  part  of  the  students  towards  them,  because  of  their 
color. 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


75 


CHAPTER  XX. 


“ Methinks  I hear  a tuneful  voice 
Chiming  afar,  o’er  land  and  sea, 

The  sun  of  freedom  wakes ! — rejoice  ! 

Thy  bonds  are  broken  — thou  art  free ! ” 


In  the  winter  of  1850,  William  and  Ellen  Craft, 
two  fugitive  slaves,  arrived  in  England,  and  being  in  a 
strange  land,  and  without  the  means  of  support,  applied 
to  Mr.  Brown,  who  was  just  on  the  eve  of  making  an 
anti-slavery  tour  through  Scotland.  Mr.  Brown  at 
once  wrote  to  the  Crafts  to  join  him.  These  two  inter- 
esting fugitives  were  born  and  brought  up  in  Macon, 
Ga.  To  make  their  slaves  more  valuable,  owners  some- 
times have  them  taught  trades.  A man  who  under- 
stands a good  trade  will  sell  for  three  or  four  hundred 
dollars  more  in  the  market.  William  Craft,  having 
learned  the  trade  of  a cabinet  maker,  was  able  to  earn 
considerable  money  for  himself  during  hours  when  he 
was  not  required  to  work  for  his  owner ; and  slavehold- 
ers always  encourage  their  servants  to  labor,  and  get 
their  own  clothes,  and  other  necessaries  of  life,  because 
all  that  the  slave  gains  in  this  way  is  so  much  saved 
by  the  master.  William  Craft  did  more  than  to  get 
clothes  for  himself.  In  the  course  of  five  years,  he 
laid  aside  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars.  William  be- 
came acquainted  with  Ellen,  a slave  girl  owned  by  Dr. 


76 


BIOGRAPHY  OP 


Collins,  and  residing  in  the  same  town.  Like  many  of 
the  slaves  at  the  South,  Ellen  was  as  white  as  most 
persons  of  the  clear  Anglo-Saxon  origin.  Her  fea- 
tures were  prominent,  hair  straight,  eyes  of  a light 
hazel  color,  and  no  one  on  first  seeing  the  white  slave 
would  suppose  that  a drop  of  African  blood  coursed 
through  her  veins.  With  the  permission  of  their  own- 
ers, William  and  Ellen  were  united  in  marriage,  after 
the  fashion  of  the  slaves.  But  both  of  these  persons 
had  long  been  lamenting  their  sad  condition,  and  were 
only  v/aiting  for  an  opportunity  of  escaping  from  the 
house  of  bondage.  It  is  usual,  among  what  are  called 
good  slaveholders,  to  give  their  servants  the  Christ- 
mas week  as  a time  of  rest  and  pleasure.  Such  was 
the  custom  of  the  owners  of  William  and  Ellen.  As 
the  Christmas  of  1848  approached,  the  Crafts,  instead 
of  studying  how  they  should  best  spend  their  time  in 
pleasure,  began  maturing  a plan  of  escape.  “I  don  ’t 
think  this  is  a good  half  dollar,”  said  William,  as 
he  finished  counting  his  money  late  one  night.  Still,” 
continued  he,  “I  shall  have  no  trouble  in  passing  it.” 
“If  some  persons  had  your  money,  they  would  have 
a jolly  time  this  Christmas,”  remarked  Ellen.  “I 
wish  we  could  get  our  freedom  with  it,”  replied  the 
husband.  “Now,  William,”  said  the  wife,  “listen  to 
me,  and  take  my  advice,  and  we  shall  be  free  in  less 
than  a month.”  “ Let  me  hear  your  plans,  then,” 
said  William.  “Take  part  of  your  money  and  pur- 
chase me  a good  suit  of  gentlemen’s  apparel,  and 
when  the  white  people  give  us  our  holiday,  let  us  go 
off  to  the  North,  instead  of  spending  our  time  in 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


77 


pleasure.  I am  -white  enough  to  go  as  the  master,  and 
you  can  pass  as  my  servant.”  “But  you  are  not  tall 
enough  for  a man,”  said  the  husband.  “ Get  me  a pair 
of  very  high-heeled  hoots,  and  they  -will  bring  me  up 
more  than  an  inch,  and  get  me  a very  high  hat,  then 
I’ll  do,”  rejoined  the  wife.  “But  then,  my  dear, 
you  would  make  a very  boyish  looking  man,  with  no 
whiskers  or  moustache,”  remarked  William.  “ I could 
bind  up  my  face  in  a handkerchief,”  said  Ellen,  “as  if 
I was  suffering  dreadfully  from  the  toothache,  and 
then  no  one  would  discover  the  want  of  beard.  ” “ What 
if  you  were  called  upon  to  write  your  name  in  the 
hooks  at  hotels,  as  I saw  my  master  do  when  travel- 
ling, or  were  asked  to  receipt  for  any  thing?”  “I 
would  also  bind  up  my  right  hand  and  put  it  in  a sling, 
and  that  would  be  an  excuse  itself  for  not  writing.” 
“I  fear  you  could  not  carry  out  the  deception  for  so 
long  a time,  for  it  must  be  several  hundred  miles  to 
the  free  States,”  said  William,  as  he  seemed  to  despair 
of  escaping  from  slavery  by  following  his  wife’s  plan. 
“ Come,  William,”  entreated  his  wife,  “ don  ’t  be  a 
coward ! Get  me  the  clothes,  and  I promise  you  we 
shall  both  be  free  in  a few  days.  You  have  money 
enough  to  fit  me  out  and  to  pay  our  passage  to  the 
North,  and  then  we  shall  be  free  and  happy.”  This 
appeal  was  too  much  for  William  to  withstand,  and  he 
resolved  to  make  the  attempt,  whatever  might  be  the 
consequences. 

Permission  having  been  obtained  from  their  master, 
William  and  Ellen  went  to  spend  their  Christmas  on 
Dr.  Collins’s  farm,  twelve  miles  from  Macon.  It  was 


78 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


understood  that  the  slaves  were  to  start  on  their  journey 
on  the  24th  of  December,  1848,  and  to  return  to  their 
employer  on  the  day  after  Christmas.  At  the  appoint- 
ed time,  instead  of  going  to  the  farm,  the  husband  and 
wife  went  to  the  railway  depot,  and  took  the  six  o’clock 
train  for  Philadelphia.  Dressed  in  her  new  suit,  with 
her  hat  of  the  latest  fashion,  and  high-heeled  boots, 
with  a pair  of  spectacles,  she  had  rather  a collegiate 
appearance.  Under  the  assumed  name  of  William 
Johnson,  she  took  her  seat  in  a first-class  car,  while 
William,  with  his  servant’s  ticket,  entered  the  Jim 
Crow  car.  At  Savannah,  the  fugitives  took  a steam- 
boat for  Charleston,  and  from  thence,  by  railway  and 
steamboat,  they  arrived  at  Philadelphia  in  four  days. 
Many  thrilling  incidents  occurred  during  their  journey. 
At  Charleston,  Mr.  Johnson  stopped  at  the  best  hotel, 
and  was  not  a little  surprised  to  find  himself  seated 
near  the  Hon.  John  C.  Calhoun  at  the  dinner  table. 
Both  at  Richmond  and  Washington,  the  fugitives  came 
very  near  being  detected.  But  the  most  amusing  inci- 
dent that  happened  during  this  novel  journey  was  Mr. 
Johnson’s  making  the  acquaintance  of  a white  family, 
who  were  also  coming  North.  On  the  second  day  of 
the  journey,  a well-dressed  old  gentleman,  accompa- 
nied by  his  two  daughters,  both  unmarried,  but  marri- 
ageable, entered  the  car  in  which  Mr.  Johnson  was, 
and  took  seats  a short  distance  from  him.  The  old 
gentleman,  being  rather  communicative,  soon  entered 
into  conversation  with  the  young  man  in  spectacles. 
“You  appear  to  be  an  invalid,”  said  the  gray-haired 
gentleman,  as  he  looked  earnestly  into  the  face  of  Mr. 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


79 


Johnson.  “Yes,”  replied  the  other,  “I  have  long 
been  afflicted  with  inflammatory  rheumatism.”  “ Ah  ! 
I know  what  that  is,  and  can  heartily  sympathize  with 
you,”  returned  the  old  man.  From  the  time  of  this 
conversation,  both  father  and  daughters  appeared  to 
take  great  interest  in  the  young  invalid.  At  every 
depot  where  they  took  refreshment,  William  acted  his 
part  as  servant  admirably.  He  waited  on  the  old  gen- 
tleman and  his  daughters,  as  well  as  on  his  own  master, 
and  by  his  politeness  and  attention  attracted  the  notice 
of  all.  “ That  is  a valuable  servant  of  yours,”  said 
the  old  gentleman  to  Mr.  Johnson.^  as  William  passed 
through  the  cabin  of  the  steamer,  while  on  the  way 
from  Savannah  to  Charleston.  “Yes,  sir,  he  is.  a boy 
that  I am  very  much  attached  to,”  returned  the  young 
man.  “ Good  negroes  are  valuable  appendages,”  said 
the  old  mail,  yawningly,  as  he  pulled  his  gold  watch 
from  his  pocket  to  see  the  time.  As  the  train  approach- 
ed Richmond,  the  old  gentleman  expressed  great  regret 
that  they  were  to  lose  the  company  of  their  new  ac- 
quaintance. “ I am  also  sorry  that  we  are  to  part,” 
remarked  Mr.  Johnson.  It  was  then  discovered  that 
Miss  Henrietta,  the  oldest  of  the  young  ladies,  seemed 
to  have  more  interest  in  the  young  man  than  one  would 
entertain  for  a mere  acquaintance.  “We  are  very 
much  fatigued  with  this  long  journey,”  said  the  old 
gentleman,  “and  I am  sure  you  must  he  tired;  why 
won’t  you  stop  with  us  and  rest  yourself  for  a few 
days'?  My  wife,  knowing  that  you  have  been  our 
travelling  companion,  will  be  glad  to  welcome  you,  and 
my  daughter  Henrietta  here  will  he  delighted.”  Miss 


80 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


Henrietta,  feeling  that  this  gave  her  an  opportunity  to 
speak,  said,  ‘ ‘ Do,  Mr.  Johnson,  stop  and  regain  your 
strength.  We  have  some  pretty  walks  about  Kich- 
mond,  and  I shall  be  so  pleased  to  show  them  to  you.” 
The  young  invalid  found  that  this  was  carrying  the 
joke  too  far,  and  began  to  regret  his  intimate  acquaint- 
ance with  the  young  lady.  However,  he  gave,  as  an 
excuse  for  declining  the  invitation,  that  urgent  business 
demanded  his  immediate  presence  in  Philadelphia,  and 
promised  them  he  would  pay  them  a visit  on  his  return 
to  Georgia. 

William  and  Ellen  Craft,  on  their  arrival  in  Phila- 
delphia, committed  themselves  to  the  care  of  Mr. 
Brown,  who  was  on  a lecturing  tour  through  Pennsyl- 
vania, and  he  brought  them  on  to  Boston.  The  Fugi- 
tive Slave  Law  drove  them  to  England,  where  they 
again  joined  their  old  friend.  Through  Mr.  Brown’s 
influence,  an  interest  was  created  for  William  and 
Ellen  in  England,  and  they  were  placed  in  a school, 
where  they  remained  two  years.  In  his  “ Sketches  of 
Places  and  People  Abroad,”  Mr.  Brown  describes  an 
interview  between  Ellen  Craft  and  Lady  Byron  as 
follows : — 

“ Some  months  since,  a lady,  apparently  not  more 
than  fifty  years  of  age,  entered  a small  dwelling  on  the 
estate  of  the  Earl  of  Lovelace,  situated  in  the  county 
of  Surry.  After  ascending  a flight  of  stairs  and  pass- 
ing through  a narrow  passage,  she  found  herself  in  a 
small  but  neat  room,  with  plain  furniture.  On  the 
table  lay  copies  of  the  Liberator.  Near  the  window 
sat  a young  woman,  busily  engaged  in  sewing,  with  a 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


81 


spelling-book  lying  open  on  her  lap.  The  light  step  of 
the  stranger  had  not  broken  the  silence,  so  as  to  announce 
the  approach  of  any  one,  and  the  young  woman  still 
sat  at  her  task,  unconscious  that  any  one  was  "near. 
A moment  or  two,  and  the  lady  was  observed.  The 
student  hastily  arose  and  apologized  for  her  apparent 
inattention.  The  stranger  was  soon  seated,  and  in  con- 
versation with  the  young  woman.  The  lady  had  often 
heard  the  word  ‘ slave,’  and  knew  something  of  its  ap- 
plication, but  had  never  before  seen  one  of  her  own 
sex  who  had  actually  been  born  and  brought  up  in  a 
state  of  chattel  slavery;  and  the  one  in  whose  company 
she  was  now  was  so  white,  and  had  so  much  the  ap- 
pearance of  a well-bred  and  educated  lady,  that  she 
could  scarcely  realize  that  she  was  in  the  presence  of 
an  American  slave.  For  more  than  an  hour,  the  illus- 
trious lady  and  the  poor  exile  sat  and  carried  on  a most 
familiar  conversation.  The  thrilling  story  of  the  fugi- 
tive slave  often  brought  tears  to  the  eyes  of  the  stran- 
ger. 0,  how  I would  that  every  half-bred,  aristocratic, 
slaveholding,  woman-whipping,  negro-hating  woman  of 
America  could  have  been  present  and  heard  what  passed 
between  these  two  distinguished  persons  ! They  would 
for  once  have  seen  one  who,  though  moving  in  the 
most  elevated  and  aristocratic  society  of  Europe,  felt  it 
an  honor  to  enter  the  small  cottage,  and  take  a seat  by 
the  side  of  a poor  hunted  and  exiled  American  fugitive 
slave.” 


82 


BIOGRAPHY  OP 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


“ Yet  press  on  ! 

For  it  shall  make  you  mighty  among  men; 

And  from  the  eyrie  of  your  eagle  thought, 

You  shall  look  down  on  monarchs  ! ” 

In  1852,  Mr.  Brown  found,  from  the  shortness  of 
the  lecturing  season,  which  in  England  lasts  only  from 
November  to  May,  and  its  furnishing  a precarious 
means  of  living,  that  he  must  adopt  some  other  mode 
of  providing  support  for  himself  and  his  daughters,  and 
therefore,  through  the  solicitation  of  some  of  his  lite- 
rary friends,  commenced  writing  for  the  English  press. 
Not  having  received  a classical  education,  he  had  often 
to  re-write  his  articles.  His  contributions  were  mainly 
on  American  questions.  For  instance,  his  articles  on 
the  death  of  Henry  Clay,  Daniel  Webster,  the  return 
of  Anthony  Burns,  were  gladly  received  by  the  Lon- 
don press,  and  the  fugitive  was  liberally  paid  for  his 
labors.  The  writer  of  this  has  known  Mr.  Brown  to 
be  engaged  all  night,  after  the  arrival  of  an  American 
mail,  in  writing  for  a morning  newspaper.  In  the 
autumn  of  1852,  he  published  his  “ Three  Years  in 
Europe,”  which  paid  him  well.  The  criticisms  on  this 
work  brought  the  fugitive  prominently  before  the  pub- 
lic, and  gave  him  a position  among  literary  men  never 
before  enjoyed  by  any  colored  American.  The  London 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


83 


Morning  Advertiser^  in  its  review,  said:  — “This 
renjarkable  book  of  a remarkable  man  cannot  fail  to 
add  to  the  practical  protests  already  entered  in  Britain 
against  the  absolute  bondage  of  three  millions  of  our 
fellow-creatures.  The  impressions  of  a self-educated 
son  of  slavery,  here  set  forth,  must  hasten  the  period 
when  the  senseless  and  impious  denial  of  common 
claims  to  a common  humanity,  on  the  score  of  color, 
shall  be  scouted  with  scorn  in  every  civilized  and  Chris- 
tian country.  And  when  this  shall  be  attained,  among 
the  means  of  destruction  of  the  hideous  abomination, 
his  compatriots  will  remember  with  respect  and  grat- 
itude the  doings  and  sayings  of  William  Wells  Brown. 
The  volume  consists  of  a sufficient  variety  of  scenes, 
persons,  arguments,  inferences,  speculations  and  opin- 
ions, to  satisfy  and  amuse  the  most  exigeant  of  those 
who  read  pour  se  desennuyer  ; while  those  who  look 
deeper  into  things,  and  view  with  anxious  hope  the 
progress  of  nations  and  of  mankind,  will  feel  that  the 
good  cause  of  humanity  and  freedom,  of  Christianity, 
enlightenment  and  brotherhood,  cannot  fail  to  be  served 
by  such  a book  as  this.” 

The  London  Literary  Gazette^  in  speaking  of  the 
book,  remarked : — “ The  appearance  of  this  book  is  too 
remarkable  a literary  event  to  pass  without  a notice. 
At  the  moment  when  attention  in  this  country  is  di- 
rected to  the  state  of  the  colored  people  in  America, 
the  book  appears  with  additional  advantage ; if  nothing 
else  were  attained  by  its  publication,  it  is  well  to  have 
another  proof  of  the  capability  of  the  negro  intellect. 
Altogether,  Mr.  Brown  has  written  a pleasing  and 


84 


BIOGRAPHY  OP 


amusing  volume,  and  we  are  glad  to  bear  this  testimony 
to  tbe  literary  merit  of  a work  by  a negro  author.”  . 

“ That  a man,”  said  the  Morning  Chronicle^  “who 
was  a slave  for  the  first  twenty  years  of  his  life,  and 
who  has  never  had  a day’s  schooling,  should  produce 
such  a book  as  this,  cannot  but  astonish  those  who  speak 
disparagingly  of  the  African  race.” 

The  London  Critic  pronounced  it  a “pleasingly 
and  well  written  book.”  “ It  is,”  said  the  AtheiKBum, 
“racy  and  amusing.”  The  Eclectic  Review,  in  its 
long  criticism,  has  the  following: — “The  extraordi- 
nary excitement  produced  by  Uncle  Tom’s  Cabin  ’ 
will,  we  hope,  prepare  the  public  of  Great  Britain  and 
America  for  this  lively  book  of  travels  by  a real  fugi- 
tive slave.  Though  he  never  had  a day’s  schooling  in 
his  life,  he  has  produced  a literary  work  not  unworthy 
of  a highly-educated  gentleman.  Our  readers  will  find 
in  these  letters  much  instruction,  not  a little  entertain- 
ment, and  the  beatings  of  a manly  heart  on  behalf  of  a 
down-trodden  race,  with  which  they  will  not  fail  to 
sympathise.” 

The  British  Banner,  edited  by  Dr.  Campbell, 
said:  — “We  have  read  this  book  with  an  unusual 
measure  of  interest.  Seldom,  indeed,  have  we  met 
with  any  thing  more  captivating.  It  somehow  happens 
that  all  these  fugitive  slaves  are  persons  of  superior 
talents.  The  pith  of  the  volume  consists  in  narratives 
of  voyages  and  journeys  made  by  the  author  in  Eng- 
land, Scotland,  Ireland  and  France  ; and  we  can  assure 
our  readers  that  Mr.  Brown  has  travelled  to  some  pur- 
pose. The  number  of  white  men  is  not  great  who  could 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


85 


have  made  more  of  the  many  things  that  came  before 
them.  There  is  in  the  work  a vast  amount  of  quotable 
matter,  which,  but  for  want  of  space,  we  should  be 
glad  to  extract.  As  the  volume,  however,  is  published 
with  a view  to  promote  the  benefit  of  the  interesting 
fugitive,  we  deem  it  better  to  give  a general  opinion, 
by  which  curiosity  may  be  whetted,  than  to  gratify  it 
by  large  citation.  A book  more  worth  the  money  has 
not,  for  a considerable  time,  come  into  our  hands.’’ 

The  Provincial  papers  and  the  London  press  united 
in  their  praise  of  this,  the  first  literary  production  of 
travels  by  a fugitive  slave.  The  Glasgow  Citizen^ 
in  its  review,  remarked:  — “ W.  Wells  Brown  is  no 
ordinary  man,  or  he  could  not  have  so  remarkably  sur- 
mounted the  many  difficulties  and  impediments  of  his 
training  as  a slave.  By  dint  of  resolution,  self-cul- 
ture and  force  of  character,  he  has  rendered  himself  a 
popular  lecturer  to  a British  audience,  and  vigorous 
expositor  of  the  evils  and  atrocities  of  that  system 
whose  chains  he  has  shaken  off  so  triumphantly  and  for 
ever.  We  may  safely  pronounce  William  Wells  Brown 
a remarkable  man,  and  a full  refutation  of  the  doctrine 
of  the  inferiority  of  the  negro.” 

The  Glasgow  Examiner  said:  — “This  is  a thril- 
ling book,  independent  of  adventitious  circumstances, 
which  will  enhance  its  popularity.  The  author  of  it  is 
not  a man  in  America,  but  a chattel, — a thing  to  be 
bought,  and  sold,  and  whipped ; but  in  Europe,  he  is 
an  author,  and  a successful  one,  too.  He  gives  in  this 
book  an  interesting  and  graphic  description  of  a three 
years’  residence  in  Europe.  The  book  will  no  doubt 


8 


86 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


obtjiin,  as  it  well  deserves,  a rapid  and  wide  popu- 
larity.” 

The  Caledonian  Mercury  concludes  an  article  of 
more  than  two  columns  of  criticism  and  extracts  as 
follows : — “ The  profound  anti-slavery  feeling  produced 
by  ‘ Uncle  Tom’s,,Cabin  ’ needed  only  such  a book  as 
this,  which  shows  so  forcibly  the  powers  and  capacity 
of  the  negro  intellect,  to  deepen  the  impression.” 

Mr.  Brown’s  criticism  on  Thomas  Carlyle  brought 
about  his  ears  a whirlwind  of  remarks  from  the  friends 
of  the  distinguished  Scotchman,  while  a portion  of  the 
press  sided  with  the  fugitive,  and  pronounced  the  arti- 
cle ably  written  and  most  just  in  its  criticism.  The 
following  is  the  offensive  part  of  the  essay,  and  refers 
to  his  meeting  Mr.  Carlyle  in  an  ornnibus : — 

“I  had  scarcely  taken  my  seat,  when  my  friend, 
who  was  seated  opposite  me,  with  looks  and  gestures 
informed  me  that  we  were  in  the  presence  of  some  dis- 
guished  individual.  -I  eyed  the  countenances  of  the 
different  persons,  but  in  vain,  to  see  if  I could  find  any 
one  who,  by  his  appearanee,  showed  signs  of  superiority 
over  his  fellow-passengers.  I had  given  up  the  hope 
of  selecting  the  person  of  note,  when  another  look  from 
my  friend  directed  my  attention  to  a gentleman  seated 
in  the  corner  of  the  omnibus.  He  was  a tall  man,  with 
strongly  marked  features,  hair  dark  and  coarse.  There 
was  a slight  stoop  of  the  shoulder, — that  bend  which 
is  always  a characteristic  of  studious  men.  But  he 
wore  on  his  countenance  a forbidding  and  disdainful 
frown,  that  seemed  to  tell  one  that  he  thought  himself 
better  than  those  about  him.  His  dress  did  not  indi- 


AN  AMEEICAN  BONDMAN. 


87 


cate  a man  of  high  rank,  and  had  we  been  in  America, 
I should  have  taken  him  for  an  Ohio  farmer.  While  I 
was  scanning  the  features  and  general  appearance  of 
the  gentleman,  the  omnibus  stopped  and  put  down  three 
or  four  of  the  passengers,  which  gave  me  an  opportu- 
nity of  getting  a seat  by  the  side  of  my  friend,  who, 
in  a low  whisper,  informed  me  that  the  gentleman 
whom  I had  been  eyeing  so  closely  was  no  less  a 
person  than  Thomas  Carlyle.  I had  read  his  ‘ Hero 
Worship  ’ and  ‘ Past  and  Present,’  and  had  formed  a 
high  opinion  of  his  literary  abilities.  But  his  recent 
attack  upon  the  emancipated  people  of  the  West  Indies, 
and  his  laborious  article  in  favor  of  the  reestablish- 
ment of  the  lash  and  slavery,  had  created  in  my  mind 
a dislike  for  the  man,  and  I almost  regretted  that  we 
were  in  the  same  omnibus.  In  some  things,  Mr.  Car- 
lyle is  right ; but  in  many,  he  is  entirely  wrong.  As 
a writer,  Mr.  Carlyle  is  often  monotonous  and  extrav- 
agant. He  does  not  exhibit  a new  view  of  nature,  or 
raise  insignificant  objects  into  importance  ; but  general- 
ly takes  common-place  thoughts  and  events,  and  tries  to 
express  them  in  stronger  and  statelier  language  than 
others.  He  holds  no  communion  with  his  kind,  but 
stands  alone,  without  mate  or  fellow.  He  is  like  a sol- 
itary peak,  all  access  to  which  is  cut  off.  He  exists, 
not  by  sympathy,  but  by  antipathy.  Mr.  Carlyle 
seems  chiefly  to  try  how  he  shall  display  his  powers, 
and  astonish  mankind  by  starting  new  trains  of  specula- 
tion, or  by  expressing  old  ones  so  as  not  to  be  under- 
stood. He  cares  little  what  he  says,  so  that  he  can  say 
it  differently  from  others.  To  read  his  works  is  one 


88 


BIOGRAPHY  OP 


thing;  to  understand  them  is  another.  If  any  one 
thinks  that  I exaggerate,  let  him  sit  for  an  hour  over 
‘ Sartor  Resartus,’  and  if  he  does  not  rise  from  its 
pages,  place  his  three  or  four  dictionaries  on  the  shelf, 
and  say  I am  right,  I promise  never  again  to  say  a 
word  against  Thomas  Carlyle.  He  writes  one  page  in 
favor  of  reform  and  ten  against  it.  He  would  hang  all 
prisoners  to  get  rid  of  them ; yet  the  inmates  of  the 
prisons  and  workhouses  are  better  off  than  the  poor. 
His  heart  is  with  the  poor ; yet  the  blacks  of  the  West 
Indies  should  he  taught,  that  if  they  will  not  raise 
sugar  and  cotton  of  their  own  free  will,  ‘ Quashy 
should  have  the  whip  applied  to  him.’  He  frowns 
upon  the  reformatory  speakers  upon  the  boards  of  Exe- 
ter Hall ; yet  he  is  the  prince  of  reformers.  He  hates 
heroes  and  assassins ; yet  Cromwell  was  an  angel,  and 
Charlotte  Corday  a saint.  He  scorns  every  thing,  and 
seems  to  be  tired  of  what  he  is  by  nature,  and  tries  to 
be  what  he  is  not.” 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


89 


CHAPTEE  XXII. 


“ Fling  out  the  anti-slavery  flag, 

And  let  it  not  be  furled, 

Till  like  a planet  of  the  skies. 

It  STveeps  around  the  world  ! ” 

Mr.  Brown’s  name  being  often  brought  before  the 
public  through  the  reviews  of  his  new  book,  and  dif- 
ferent sketches  of  his  life  having  been  published  in 
the  London  Biographical  Magazine^  Public  Good. 
True  Briton.,  and  other  periodicals,  he  was  invited  to 
lecture  before  literary  associations  in  London  and  the 
provincial  towns.  This  induced  him  to  get  up  a course 
of  lectures  on  America  and  her  great  men,  St.  Do- 
mingo, &c.  Thus,  during  the  lecturing  season,  he  was 
busily  engaged,  either  before  institutions,  or  speaking 
on  American  Slavery. 

In  the  spring  of  1853,  the  fugitive  brought  out  his 
work,  “ Clotel,  or  the  President’s  Daughter,” — a book 
of  near  three  hundred  pages,  being  a narrative  of  slave 
life  in  the  Southern  States.  This  work  called  forth 
new  criticisms  on  the  “Negro  Author”  and  his  lite- 
rary efforts.  The  London  Daily  News  pronounced  it 
a book  that  would  make  a deep  impression ; while  the 
Leader,  edited  by  the  son  of  Leigh  Hunt,  thought 
many  parts  of  it  “equal  to  any  thing  which  has  ap- 
peared on  the  slavery  question.” 


90 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


Thus  the  fugitive  slave  slov?ly  worked  his  way  up 
into  English  literary  society.  After  delivering  a lec- 
ture before  the  London  Metropolitan  Athenaeum,  the 
Managing  Committee  instructed  the  Secretary  to  thank 
Mr.  Brown,  which  he  did  in  the  following  note  : — 

“ Metropolitan  ATHENAiHM,  i 
189  Strand,  June  21st.  ) 

“My  Dear  Sir,  — I have  much  pleasure  in  con- 
veying to  you  the  best  thanks  of  the  Managing  Com- 
mittee of  this  institution  for  the  excellent  lecture  you 
gave  here  last  evening,  and  also  in  presenting  you,  in 
their  names,  with  an  honorary  membership  of  the  Club. 
It  is  hoped  that  you  will  often  avail  yourself  of  its 
privileges  by  coming  amongst  us.  You  will  then  see, 
by  the  cordial  welcome  of  the  members,  that  they  pro- 
test against  the  odious  distinctions  made  between  man 
and  man,  and  the  abominable  traffic  of  which  you  have 
been  a victim.  For  my  own  part,  I shall  be  happy  to 
be  serviceable  to  you  in  any  way,  and  at  all  times  be 
glad  to  place  the  advantages  of  the  institution  at  your 
disposal. 

“ I am,  my  dear  sir,  yours,  truly, 

“WILLIAM  STRUDWICKE, 
Secretary. 

“Mr.  W.  Wells  Brown.” 

Through  Mr.  Brown’s  influence  and  exertions,  an 
Anti-Slavery  meeting  was  held  on  the  First  of  August 
during  the  three  last  years  of  his  residence  in  London. 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


91 


The  Morning  Advertiser  describes  one  of  these  occa- 
sions in  the  following  terms  : — 

“It  was  on  the  First  of  August,  that  a number  of 
men,  fugitives  from  that  boasted  land  of  freedom,  as- 
sembled at  the  Hall  of  Commerce,  in  the  city  of  Lon- 
don, for  the  purpose  of  laying  their  wrongs  before  the 
British  nation,  and,  at  the  same  time,  to  give  thanks  to 
the  God  of  freedom  for  the  liberation  of  their  West 
India  brethren,  on  the  First  of  August,  1834.  At 
the  hour  of  half  past  seven,  for  which  the  meeting  had 
been  called,  the  spacious  hall  was  well  filled,  and  the 
fugitives,  followed  by  some  of  the  most  noted  English 
Abolitionists,  entered  the  hall,  amid  deafening  applause, 
and  took  their  seats  on  the  platform.  The  appearance 
of  the  great  hall  at  this  juncture  was  most  splendid. 
Besides  the  committee  'of  fugitives,  on  the  platform 
there  were  a number  of  the  oldest  and  most  devoted  of 
the  slave’s  friends.  On  the  left  of  the  Chair  sat 
George  Thompson,  Esq.,  M.  P.,  Sir  J.  Walmsley,  M. 
P.,  Joseph  Hume,  Esq.,  M.  P.,  and  many  other  equally 
noted  public  men.  Not  far  from  the  platform  sat  Sir 
Francis  Knowles,  Bart. ; still  further  back  was  Samuel 
Bowley,  Esq.,  while  near  the  door  were  to  be  seen  the 
greatest  critic  of  the  age,  and  England’s  best  living 
poet.  Macaulay  had  laid  down  his  pen,  entered  the 
hall,  and  was  standing  near  the  central  door,  while  not 
far  from  the  historian  stood  the  newly-appointed  Poet 
Laureate.  The  author  of  ‘ In  Memoriam  ’ had  been 
swept  in  by  the  crowd,  and  was  standing  with  his  arms 
folded,  iind  beholding  for  the  first  time,  and  probably 
the  last,  so  large  a number  of  colored  men  in  one  room. 


92 


BIOGRAPHY  OP 


The  chair  was  most  appropriately  filled  by  Wm.  Wells 
Brown,  the  distinguished  fugitive  slave  from  America. 
The  Chairman  first  addressed  the  meeting  in  an  elo- 
quent and  feeling  manner,  after  which,  speeches  were 
made  by  Mr.  George  Thompson  and  others.  The  gath- 
ering was  the  most  spirited  one  of  the  kind  held  in 
London  for  many  years,  and  a good  impression  was 
made  upon  the  assembled  multitude.” 

No  American  visiting  Great  Britain  ever  had  better 
opportunity  of  becoming  acquainted  with  the  con- 
dition of  all  classes  of  society  than  Mr.  Brown.  He 
saw  every  phase  of  life  in  England,  Ireland,  Scotland 
and  Wales.  He  partook  of  the  hospitality  of  the  lord 
in  his  magnificent  country-seat,  and  the  peasant  in  his 
lowly  cottage.  A fashionable  dinner  is  thus  described 
by  the  fugitive  in  his  “ Sketches  of  Places  and  People 
Abroad  ” : — 

“ It  was  on  a pleasant  afternoon  in  September  that  I 

had  gone  into  Surrey  to  dine  with  Lord  C , and 

found  myself  one  of  a party  of  nine,  seated  at  a 
table  loaded  with  every  thing  that  heart  could  wish. 
Four  men-servants,  in  livery,  with  white  gloves,  waited 
upon  the  company.  After  the  different  courses  had 
been  changed,  the  wine  occupied  the  most  conspicuous 
place  on  the  table,  and  all  seemed  to  drink  with  a rel- 
ish unappreciated  except  by  those  who  move  in  the 
higher  walks  of  life.  My  glass  was  the  only  one  on 
the  table  into  which  the  juice  of  the  grape  had  not  been 
poured.  It  takes  more  nerve  than  most  men  possess  to 
enable  one  to  decline  taking  a glass  of  wine  with  a 
lady;  and  in  English  society,  they  do  not  appear  to 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


93 


understand  how  human  beings  can  live  and  enjoy  health 
without  taking  at  least  a little  wine.  By  my  continued 
refusal  to  drink,  with  first  one  and  then  another  of  the 
company,  I had  become  rather  an  object  of  pity  than 
otherwise.  A lady  of  the  party,  and  in  company  with 
whom  I had  dined  on  a previous  occasion,  and  who 
knew  me  to  be  an  abstainer,  resolved  to  relieve  me 
from  the  awkward  position  in  which  my  principles  had 
placed  me,  and  therefore  caused  a decanter  of  raspberry 
vinegar  to  be  adulterated  and  brought  on  the  table. 
A note  in  pencil  from  the  lady  informed  me  of  the  con- 
tents of  the  new  bottle.  I am  partial  to  this  kind  of 
beverage,  and  felt  glad  when  it  made  its  appearance. 
No  one  of  the  party,  except  the  lady,  knew  of  the 
fraud,  and  I was  able,  during  the  remainder  of  the 
time,  to  drink  with  any  of  the  company.  The  waiters, 
as  a matter  of  course,  were  in  the  secret,  for  they  had 
to  make  the  change  while  passing  the  wine  from  me  to 
the  person  with  whom  I drank.  After  a while,  as  is 
usual,  the  ladies  all  rose  and  left  the  room.  The  retir- 
ing of  the  fair  sex  left  the  gentlemen  in  a more  free 
and  easy  position,  and  consequently,  the  topics  of  con- 
versation were  materially  changed,  but  not  for  the  bet- 
ter. The  presence  of  ladies  is  always  a restraint  in 
the  right  direction.  An  hour  after  the  ladies  had 
gone,  the  gentlemen  were  requested  to  retire  to  the 
drawing-room,  where  we  found  tea  ready  to  be  served 
up.  I was  glad  when  the  time  came  to  leave  for  the 
drawing-room,  for  I felt  it  a great  bore  to  be  com- 
pelled to  remain  at  the  table  three  hours.  Tea  over, 
the  wine  was  again  brought  on,  and  the  company  took 


94 


BIOGRAPHY  OP 


a stroll  through  the  grounds  at  the  back  of  the  villa. 
It  was  a bright  moonlight  night,  the  stars  were  out, 
and  the  air  came  laden  with  the  perfume  of  sweet  flow- 
ers, and  there  was  no  sound  to  be  heard  except  the 
musical  splashing  of  the  little  cascade  at  the  end  of 
the  garden,  and  the  song  of  the  nightingale,  that  seemed 
to  be  in  one  of  the  trees  near  by.  How  pleasant  every 
thing  looked,  with  the  flowers  creeping  about  the  sum- 
mer-house, and  the  windows  opening  into  the  velvet 
lawn,  with  its  modest  front,  neat  trellis-work,  and  me- 
andering vines  ! The  small,  smooth  flsh  pond,  and  the 
life-like  statues,  standing  or  kneeling  in  difierent  parts 
of  the  ground,  gave  it  the  appearance  of  a very  Para- 
dise. ‘There,’  said  his  lordship,  ‘is  where  Cowley 
used  to  sit  under  the  tree  and  read.’  This  reminded 
me  that  we  were  near  Chertsey,  where  the  poet  spent  his 
last  days ; and,  as  I was  invited  to  spend  the  night 
within  a short  ride  of  that  place,  T resolved  to  visit  it 
the  next  day.  We  returned  to  the  drawing-room,  and 
in  a few  minutes  after,  the  party  separated.” 

Although  mingling  with  some  of  the  best  men  and 
women  of  Europe,  Mr.  Brown  never  forgot  his  country- 
men in  bonds,  or  overlooked  the  flict  that  he  was  himself 
closely  connected  with  them.  Nor  did  his  elevated 
position  prevent  his  speaking  out  faithfully  against  the 
evils  that  degrade  humanity  in  the  old  world.  The 
temperance  cause,  peace,  education,  and  the  elevation 
of  the  laboring  classes  in  Great  Britain,  claimed  much 
of  his  time  and  attention. 

During  his  residence  abroad,  Mr.  Brown  travelled 
more  than  twenty-flve  thousand  miles  through  Great 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


95 


Britain,  addressed  above  one  thousand  public  meetings, 
and  lectured  before  twenty-three  literary  societies,  be- 
sides speaking  at  religious  and  benevolent  anniversa- 
ries. Few  persons  could  have  accomplished  more  labor 
than  did  this  fugitive  slave  during  his  five  years’  ab- 
sence from  America. 

Mr.  Brown  rendered  most  valuable  services  to  the 
cause  of  freedom  while  in  England,  by  keeping  on  the 
track  of  every  pro-slavery  renegade  who  made  his  ap- 
pearance there  as  an  advocate  of  slavery.  Rev.  Dr. 
Prime,  Dr.  Dyer,  and  others  of  the  same  way  of  think- 
ing, found  the  fugitive  at  their  heels  wherever  they  went. 
He  exposed  them,  and  held  them  up  to  the  scorn  and 
contempt  of  the  people  of  Great  Britain,  through  the 
columns  of  the  English  journals. 


96 


BIOGRAPHY  OF 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 


“ Ay,  fettered  not  by  creed,  or  clan,  or  gold,  or  land,  or  sea. 

You  roam  through  the  world  of  light  and  life,  rejoicing  you 
are  free.” 

Im  the  spring  of  1854,  a few  ladies,  personal  friends 
of  Mr.  Brown,  in  England,  wishing  to  secure  to  him 
the  right  of  returning  to  the  United  States  at  any 
time  that  he  might  feel  inclined,  without  the  liability 
of  being  arrested  as  a fugitive  slave,  negotiated  with 
his  old  master  for  the  purchase  of  his  freedom.  As  it 
may  be  interesting  to  the  reader  to  know  how  an  Amer- 
ican disposes  of  his  neighbors,  we  give  below  the  Bill 
of  Sale,  called  a Deed  of  Emancipation:  — 

Know  all  men  by  these  presents,  That  I,  Enoch 
Price,  of  the  city  and  county  of  St.  Louis,  and  State 
of  Missouri,  for  and  in  consideration  of  the  sum  of 
three  hundred  dollars,  to  be  paid  to  Joseph  Greely,  my 
agent  in  Boston,  Mass.,  by  Miss  Ellen  Richardson,  or 
her  agent,  on  the  delivei’y  of  this  paper,  do  emanci- 
pate, set  free,  and  liberate  from  slavery,  a mulatto  man 
named  Sanford  Higgins,  alias  Wm.  Wells  Brown,  that 
I purchased  of  Samuel  Willi  on  the  2d  October,  1833. 
Said  Brown  is  now  in  the  fortieth  year  of  his  age,  and 
I do  acknowledge  that  no  other  person  holds  any  claim 
on  him  as  a slave  but  myself. 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


97 


“ In  witness  whereof,  I hereunto  set  my  hand  and 
seal,  this  24th  day  of  April,  1854. 

“ENOCH  PRICE. 


“ Witness, 


Oliver  Harris, 

^ John  A.  Hasson.” 


“ State  op  Missouri,  County  op  St.  Louis,  s.  s. 

“ the  St.  Louis  Circuit  Court.,  ) 

April  Term,  1854.  April  25th.  ) 

“Be  it  remembered,  that  on  this  25th  day  of  April, 
eighteen  hundred  and  fifty-four,  in  the  open  Court, 
came  Enoch  Price,  who  is  personally  known  to  the 
Court  to  be  the  same  person  whose  name  is  subscribed 
to  the  foregoing  instrument  of  writing  as  a party 
thereto,  and  he  acknowledged  the  same  to  be  his  act 
and  deed,  for  the  purposes  therein  mentioned ; — which 
said  acknowledgment  is  entered  on  the  record  of  the 
Court  of  that  day. 

“ In  testimony  whereof,  I hereto  set  my 
hand  and  affix  the  seal  of  said  Court,  at 
office  in  the  city  of  St.  Louis,  the  day  and 
year  last  aforesaid. 

“WM.  J.  HAMMOND,  ClerkC^ 

“ State  op  Missouri,  County  op  St.  Louis,  s.  s. 

“I,  Wm.  J.  Hammond,  Clerk  of  the  Circuit  Court 
in  and  for  the  county  aforesaid,  certify  the  foregoing  to 
be  a true  and  correct  copy  of  the  Deed  of  Emancipa- 
tion from  Enoch  Price  to  Sanford  Higgins,  {alias  Wm. 


98 


BIOaRAPHY  OF 


Wells  Brown,)  as  fully  as  the  same  remains  in  my 
office. 

“In  testimony  w’hereof,  I hereto  set  my  hand  and 
affix  the  seal  of  said  Court,  at  office  in  the  city  of  St. 
Louis,  this  25th  day  of  April,  eighteen  hundred  and 
fiftytfour. 

“WM.  J.  HAMMOND,  CTer/r.” 

“ State  of  Missouri,  County  of  St.  Louis,  s.  s. 

“I,  Alexander  Hamilton,  sole  Judge  of  the  Circuit 
Court  within  and  for  the  Eighth  Judicial  Circuit  of  the 
State  of  Missouri,  (composed  of  the  County  of  St. 
Louis,)  certify  that  William  J.  Hammond,  whose  name 
is  subscribed  to  the  foregoing  certificate,  was  at  the 
date  thereof,  and  now  is.  Clerk  of  the  Circuit  Court 
within  and  for  the  County  of  St.  Louis,  duly  elected 
and  qualified ; that  his  said  certificate  is  in  due  form  of 
lawq  and  that  full  faith  and  credit  are  and  should  be 
given  to  all  such  his  official  acts. 

“ Given  under  my  hand,  at  the  city  of  St.  Louis, 
this  26th  day  of  April,  eighteen  hundred  and  fifty- 
four. 

“A.  HAMILTON,  Judged 

“ July  7th,  1854.  I have  received  this  day  Wm.  I. 
Bowditch’s  check  on  the  Globe  Bank  for  three  hundred 
dollars,  in  full  for  the  consideration  of  the  foregoing 
instrument  of  emancipation. 

“JOSEPH  GREELY, 

“By  Thomas  Page’s  authority.” 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


99 


The  foregoing,  reader,  is  a true  copy  of  the  bill  of 
sale  by  -which  a democratic,  Christian  American  sells 
his  fellow-countryman  for  British  gold.  Let  this 
paper  be  read  and  the  fact  rung  in  the  ears  of  our 
nervous  negro  aristocracy who  are  upholding  an  in- 
stitution which  withers  and  curses  the  land,  which 
blasts  every  thing  that  it  touches,  which  lies  like  an 
incubus  on  the  nation’s  breast,  which  overshadows  the 
Genius  of  the  American  Revolution,  and  makes  our 
countrymen  the  scorn  and  by-word  of  the  inhabitants  of 
monarchical  Europe. 


100 


BIOGRAPHY  OP 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

“ Hail,  noble-hearted,  sympathetic  band  ! 

Men  of  hope-giving  speech  and  ready  hand  ! 
Followers  of  the  Lowly  One,  who  first  began 
To  plead  for  charity  to  fallen  man  ! ” 


As  it  regards  social  position,  any  government  is  pre- 
ferable to  that  of  the  United  States  for  a colored  person 
to  live  under.  The  prejudice  -which  exists  in  most  of 
the  American  States  against  people  of  color  is  unknoAvn 
in  any  European  country.  This,  therefore,  is  a great 
inducement  to  colored  Americans  to  take  up  their  resi- 
dence abroad.  Although  recognised  as  a man,  and 
treated  -\vith  deference  by  all  he  met,  Mr.  Brown 
wished  to  return  to  the  United  States.  His  feelings 
and  inclinations  were  all  with  the  slave  and  his  friends, 
and  his  soul  yearned  to  be  where  the  great  battle  for 
freedom  was  being  fought.  With  such  feelings,  he 
had  no  wish  to  remain  in  England,  when  informed  by 
his  friends  that  his  liberty  had  been  secured;  he  there- 
fore made  preparations  to  return  home  immediately. 
The  following,  from  “Sketches  of  Places  and  People 
Abroad,”  will  give  some  idea  of  the  (now)  freemarC s 
feelings,  when  preparing  for  his  departure  from  Lon- 
don : — 

“ What  a change  five  years  make  in  one’s  history  ! 
The  summer  of  1849  found  me  a stranger  in  a foreign 


AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


101 


land,  unknown  to  its  inhabitants  ; its  laws,  customs  and 
history  were  a blank  to  me.  But  how  different  the 
summer  of  1854  ! During  my  sojourn,  I had  travelled 
over  nearly  every  railroad  in  England  and  Scotland, 
and  had  visited  Ireland  and  Wales,  besides  spending 
some  weeks  on  the  Continent.  I had  become  so  well 
acquainted  with  the  British  people  and  their  history, 
that  I had  begun  to  fancy  myself  an  Englishman,  by 
habit,  if  not  by  birth.  The  treatment  which  I had  ex- 
perienced at  their  hands  had  endeared  them  to  me,  and 
caused  me  to  feel  myself  at  home  wherever  I went. 
Under  such  circumstances,  it  was  not  strange  that  I 
commenced  with  palpitating  heart  the  preparations  to 
return  to  my  7iative  land.  Native  land  ! How  harsh- 
ly that  word  sounds  in  my  ears  ! True,  America  was 
the  land  of  my  birth ; my  grandfather  had  taken  part 
in  her  Bevolution,  had  enriched  the  soil  with  his  blood, 
yet  upon  this  soil  I had  been  worked  as  a slave.  I 
seem  to  hear  the  sound  of  the  auctioneer’s  rough  voice, 
as  I stood  on  the  block  in  the  slave-market  at  St. 
Louis.  I shall  never  forget  the  savage  grin  with  which 
he  welcomed  a higher  bid,  when  he  thought  he  had 
received  the  last  offer.  I had  seen  my  mother  sold, 
and  taken  to  the  cotton-fields  of  the  far  South ; three 
brothers  had  been  bartered  to  the  soul-drivers  in  my 
presence ; a dear  sister  had  been  sold  to  the  negro- 
dealer  and  driven  away  by  him ; I had  seen  the  rusty 
chains  fastened  upon  her  delicate  wrists ; the  whip  had 
been  applied  to  my  own  person,  and  the  marks  of  the 
brutal  driver’s  lash  were  still  on  my  body.  Yet  this 
was  my  native  land,  and  to  this  land  was  I about  to 
embark.” 


102 


BIOGRAPHY  OP 


Mr.  Brown  came  home  in  the  steamship  “ City  of 
Manchester,”  and  landed  at  Philadelphia,  where  a re- 
ception was  given  to  him.  “ The  meeting,”  says  the 
Ayiti-Slavery  Sla?idard,  “ was  held  in  the  Brick  Wes- 
ley Church,  which  was  crowded  to  its  utmost  capacity 
with  the  friends  of  Mr.  Brown,  and  the  public  general- 
ly, to  extend  to  him  the  most  cordial  token  of  regard. 
The  fact  that  he  had  faithfully  and'  nobly  represented 
his  enslaved  countrymen,  while  in  Europe,  was  too 
obvious,  in  the  estimation  of  those  who  had  assembled 
to  welcome  and  greet  him  on  his  return,  to  admit  of  a 
shadow  of  doubt.  During  the  five  years  that  Mr. 
Brown  had  passed  in  Europe,  his  numerous  friends,  es- 
pecially the  colored  man,  have  had  great  cause  of  satis- 
faction and  gratification  in  looking  over  his  labors ; as 
a lecturer,  presenting  the  claims  of  his  brethren  in 
bonds ; as  an  author,  constantly  using  his  pen  in  en- 
lightening the  British  people  on  the  monstrous  iniqui- 
ties of  slavery,  and  likewise  contributing  to  the  demands 
of  literature  and  knowledge  in  other  respects — two  of 
his  works  having  been  published  and  creditably  noticed 
by  the  press  of  Great  Britain.” 

Robert  Purvis,  Esq.,  one  of  the  most  devoted 
friends  of  the  slave,  presided  over  the  meeting,  and  at 
its  close,  the  following  resolutions  were  unanimously 
adopted ; — 

“ Resolved,  That  we  rejoice  in  the  opportunity  af- 
forded by  this  meeting  of  greeting  our  friend  Wm. 
Wells  Brown,  on  his  return  to  this  country,  and  that 
we  hereby  avail  ourselves  of  it  to  extend  to  him  our 
heartiest  assurances  of  welcome. 


AN  AMEKICAN  BONDMAN. 


103 


Resolved,  That  our  thanks  are  due  to  Mr.  Brown 
for  the  zeal  and  fidelity  with  which  he  has  advocated 
the  cause  of  freedom  and  the  interests  of  the  colored 
man  in  Great  Britain,  and  that  we  are  severally  grate- 
ful to  him  for  leaving  a country  where  a black  man  la- 
bors under  no  disabilities,  and  where  there  is  no  preju- 
dice against  color,  to  return  to  this  land  of  slavery,  and 
labor  for  the  disenthralment  of  his  brethren  from  the 
hate  of  the  white  man  and  the  chains  of  the  slave- 
holder.” 

At  Boston,  a meeting  was  held  in  the  Meionaon,  at 
which  Francis  Jackson,  Esq.,  the  staunch  friend  of 
humanity,  presided.  Speeches  were  made  by  Wm, 
Lloyd  Garrison,  Wm.  C.  Nell,  and  Wendell 
Phillips.  The  last-named  speaker,  in  welcoming  Mr. 
Brown,  said,  — “I  rejoice  that  our  friend  Brown  went 
abroad;  I rejoice  still  more  that  he  has  returned.  The 
years  any  thoughtful  man  spends  abroad  must  enlarge 
his  mind  and  store  it  richly.  But  such  a visit  is,  to  a 
colored  man,  more  than  merely  intellectual  education. 
He  lives  for  the  first  time  free  from  the  blighting  chill 
of  prejudice.  He  sees  no  society,  no  institution,  no 
place  of  resort  or  means  of  comfort  from  which  his 
color  debars  him.” 

After  mentioning  some  amusing  instances  of  the 
surprise  of  Americans  at  this  absence  of  prejudice 
abroad,  Mr.  Phillips  said,  — “We  have  to  thank  our 
friend  for  the  fidelity  with  which  he  has,  amid  many 
temptations,  stood  by  those  whose  good  name  religious* 
prejudice  is  trying  to  undermine  in  Great  Britain. 
That  land  is  not  all  Paradise  to  the  colored  man.  Too 


104  BIOGRAPHY  OF  AN  AMERICAN  BONDMAN. 


many  of  them  allow  themselves  to  be  made  tools  of  the 
most  subtle  foes  of  their  race.  We  recognise,  to-night, 
the  clear-sightedness  and  fidelity  of  Mr.  Brown’s  course 
abroad,  not  only  to  thank  him,  but  to  assure  our  friends 
there  that  this  is  what  the  Abolitionists  of  Boston 
endorse.” 

Mr.  Phillips  proceeded:  — “ I still  more  rejoice  that 
Mr.  Brown  has  returned.  Returned  to  what?  Not  to 
what  he  can  call  his  ‘ country.’  The  white  man  comes 
‘home.’  When  Milton  heard,  in  Italy,  the  sound  of 
arras  from  England,  he  hastened  back  — young,  enthu- 
siastic, and  bathed  in  beautiful  art  as  he  was  in  Flor- 
ence. ‘ I would  not  be  away,’  he  said,  ‘ when  a blow 
was  struck  for  liberty.’  He  came  to  a country  Avhere 
his  manhood  was  recognised,  to  fight  on  equal  footing. 
The  black  man  comes  home  to  no  liberty  but  the  liber- 
ty of  suffering  — to  struggle  in  fetters  for  the  welfare 
of  his  race.  It  is  a magnanimous  sympathy  with  his 
blood  that  brings  such  a man  back.  I honor  it.  W’^e 
meet  to  do  it  honor.  Franklin’s  motto  was,  Ubi  Lib- 
ertas,  ibi  patria  — Where  Liberty  is,  there  is  my  coun- 
try. Had  our  friend  adopted  that  for  his  rule,  he  would 
have  stayed  in  Europe.  Liberty  for  him  is  there.  The 
colored  man  who  returns,  like  our  friend,  to  labor, 
crushed  and  despised,  for  his  race,  sails  under  a higher 
flag : his  motto  is,  ‘ Where  my  country  is,  there  will  I 
bring  liberty  ! ’ ” 


